


Rest, My Angel

by cobalt_wings



Series: Adventures in Being Human [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 09, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Bunker Fic, Canon-Typical Torture, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Flying Sex, Frottage, Gun play, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Paintball, Phone Sex, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Rimming, Sexual Content, Shower Sex, Soul Bond, Switching, Temporary Character Death, Top Castiel, Top Dean, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:46:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 86,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobalt_wings/pseuds/cobalt_wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels are falling from the sky, and Dean is losing it. Sam is dying in his arms, and one of those burning, twisting figures blazing through the night air might be his very own angel, Castiel. What can he do to help those he loves?<br/> </p><p>AN: This started out as a one-chapter one-shot, just a way to discover whether or not I could actually write smut. But, the more damage they did to Destiel on the actual show (heartbreaking, isn’t it?), the more I was compelled to write scenes depicting the relationship as I’d have liked to see it go. </p><p>I especially enjoy exploring firsts for Castiel – with Dean! – since I was so infuriated with the way they threw away Cas' virginity on that skank, April. Working on this story has been like therapy for me, and as the show writers kept making me scream ‘Noooo!!!’, I kept having to add chapters. </p><p>Some plot eventually worked its way into the porn, and since I've reached a point where I think I've got most of that resolved, I've finally called a halt. I love this verse though, so there may be more ficlets set in it, in future. I hope you enjoy exploring my little AU, happy reading! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was written before Season 9 of Supernatural began, so I made up my own, fairly facile solutions to the stated problems. After all, this is really about the porn. Yeah, there's a lot of lead-up to it, but I'm a girl. I enjoy foreplay, and emotional content. Feel free to skip to the good stuff. 
> 
> I've seen others having so much fun with Destiel, and I just wanted to play too. I'm still pretty new to writing, and this is my first attempt at smut, so please be kind! :)

Dean stared, gazing up with a mixture of awe and horror. Those flaming meteors streaking through the sky, so many...  They were angels, falling.

A few had passed close enough for him to see details, and he felt nausea twist in his stomach. For so long he'd wondered about Castiel's wings, fascinated by the very idea. He'd wanted very much to see them, even if it was just to glimpse their shadow again. It had blown his mind that first night in the barn, when Castiel had spread them wide to prove his claim of angeldom.

Well, he was seeing angel wings now, and he knew he'd be carrying this memory for the rest of his life, too. For these wings were burning, twisting and writhing as they were consumed by fire, no longer able to support their owners, who were falling helplessly to earth. God, was this happening to Castiel? Was one of those bright objects roaring down through the night sky actually his friend falling, burning? Oh god, he really was going to be sick.

But then Sam, who was tucked up against his side as they sat leaning against the front wheel of the Impala, made a noise he knew from experience to be a strangled scream. Dean's attention snapped back to Sam, and he clutched at him as Sam suddenly convulsed. Fear throttling him, Dean eased his brother to the ground, trying to keep him from damaging himself any further as he seized.

Shit, this was bad. He may have prevented Sam's immediate death, by stopping him from completing the ritual to close the Gates of Hell, but that didn't mean he was going to live, either. Sam was too far into the process, every step of which had changed him in ways Dean didn't understand. All he knew was that his brother was sick, hurting, damaged in ways that Castiel had told them even an angel couldn't heal.

A hospital would be just as useless, they couldn't heal mystical wounds either. But Sam was clearly not going to last long without help of some sort, and he'd already exhausted all the avenues of research he knew to pursue. Panic sank its claws deep into his gut as he held his brother, helplessness a now familiar and unwelcome weight, crushing him.

Finally, the seizures stopped, and Sam's long body relaxed. But then he moaned and turned onto his side, curling into a fetal position, arms wrapped around his middle against some terrible pain. He started shaking, and more breathless moans escaped as he panted, though he was clearly fighting to endure in silence.

That was it, Dean had to do _something_. Vaulting to his feet, he looked around wildly, his panicked mind scrambling for inspiration. His eyes fell upon the church, and everything in him went still. Dear god, he couldn't, not again. But looking back down at the writhing form of his pain-wracked brother, he knew he would. He was going to make another deal with a demon.

'C'mon Sammy, on your feet.' He pulled at Sam's arm, trying to get it over his shoulder to lever him upright. 'We've got to go back inside.'

'Leave me alone, Dean,' Sam moaned, teeth chattering. 'I'm a little busy right now. Can't a guy die in peace?'

'Nobody's dying tonight. No fuckin' way. I'm serious, move your ass!' Using the strength lent by fear, Dean hauled Sam upright, and all but carried his stumbling form up the steps of the church. He deposited his brother in a trembling heap just beyond the outer circle of the Devil's Trap that held the King of Hell.

Crowley met Dean's defiant glare with a smirk. He might be weakened and chained to a chair, but he knew he had the upper hand now. 'Hello, boys. Something I can do for you?' He looked down at Sam, 'Not looking so good there, Sammy-boy. What's the matter, don't you feel well?'

'Can it, Crowley,' Dean growled. 'He needs help and you know it. You need out of that chair, to get back to your kingdom before Abaddon takes it over. You heal Sam, we let you go, you leave us unharmed for at least a day. Deal?'

'Well now, it seems like there's room for some negotiation here. I have a reputation to maintain, after all...'

'Take it or leave it, Crowley. You'll be free, and you have the rest of our lives to hunt us down. It's a good deal, and you know it. Besides,' he leaned down to look Crowley straight in the eye, 'if Sam dies, I'll have nothing better to live for than to make you scream. I have a private dungeon where we can explore everything I learned about torture during 40 years in Hell. Would you really prefer to take that route, or are you gonna take the deal?'

Crowley scowled, knowing Dean would not hesitate to follow through on his threat. 'On one condition.' He nodded at Sam, 'I'll make the deal with him, not you. The day I deal with you, it's going to be something special. Count on it.'

Dean nodded, and tugged at Sam's shoulder. 'Come on, Sam, just a little further.' He dragged his barely conscious brother over next to the chair holding the demon, then freed one of Crowley's hands.

Crowley twisted a fist into Sam's shirt, and lifted him effortlessly up to eye level. Sam's eyes flared wide and his hands flew up defensively as Crowley laid one on him, a great smacking kiss on the lips. Pushing violently away, Sam sprawled back on the floor, and lay gazing up in open-mouthed shock at the grinning demon. Then his eyes narrowed and shot to his brother, as he heard a barely suppressed snigger from that direction.

Seeing a clearly healthier brother glaring at him, Dean lost it, the relief and joy too great to be contained. He laughed until tears came to his eyes, until he could barely breathe, until Sam got up from the floor and slugged him for dragging him into a deal with a demon.

Sam pointed a finger at his brother, who was rubbing a sore jaw but still snickering, 'We are going to have a long talk about this,' he promised. Then he turned back to Crowley, who raised an inquiring eyebrow and rattled his remaining shackles.

Sam sighed, and picked the lock for the handcuffs up from the floor where Dean had dropped it. He stood for a moment just looking at the demon with resigned regret. He'd come so close, he'd almost gotten through to Crowley, almost cured him. Defeat was a bitter taste in Sam's mouth as he bent down to release Crowley, freeing him to resume his wicked ways. 'I'm sorry,' he said, feeling that he'd failed the man beneath the demonic corruption, 'I wish things had turned out differently.'

Surprisingly, Crowley didn't make one of his trademark smart-mouthed comebacks. He just looked solemnly up at Sam, and waited until he'd backed away to stand up. Sam reached down and pried up a loose bit of red-painted wood, breaking the circle that held Crowley captive. 'Some other time, Sam,' Crowley said, and vanished.

'How do you feel?', Dean asked.

'Like I could eat a horse, then sleep for a week, but otherwise fine,' Sam told him.

Dean's shoulders slumped in relief. 'Thank god. Now maybe we can get back to the other crisis.'

Reminded, Sam stiffened with alarm and looked toward the door. 'Right, the angels! What the hell is up with that?'

'I don't know, but Cas was talking about shutting up heaven. I just figured the angels would be locked in, not out.'

'Maybe something went wrong. Where is Castiel?'

'I really wish I knew.'

* * *

Dean poked at his meal, but couldn't work up any enthusiasm for it. Kevin had already finished, and gone back to browsing through the massive Men of Letters archives. Across the table, Sam was still shoveling down food at a tremendous rate, which pleased Dean to see. Sam's body hadn't been able to tolerate much in the way of sustenance during the past weeks, and he'd lost a lot of weight. His appetite was clearly back now, though, and he was making up for lost time.

Finally reaching the point where he felt full, Sam leaned back in his chair and luxuriated in the sense of well-being that came from inhabiting a healthy body. He watched Dean fidget, taking out his phone to check for messages for the dozenth time since they'd sat down to eat. Sam could see him willing Cas to call.

'You could go look for him,' Sam suggested.

'Look where?' Dean didn't even try to pretend he didn't know who Sam was talking about. 'Where would I even start?'

'I don't know. We saw a couple of angels come down near the church, you could try to find them. Maybe they know what happened up there.'

'Yeah, I suppose.' Dean pushed to his feet. 'Better than just sitting here, anyway. You'll be okay?'

'I'm fine, Dean. You've been watching me like a hawk for the past two days. I'd say it's a safe bet that I'm not going to relapse or anything. I'm still tired, but the need for food and sleep is easing, and I'm getting steadily stronger. Another couple of days and I should be back in fighting trim.'

Dean blew out a breath, 'Okay then. Call if you need me. I'll let you know if I learn anything.' He took out his phone to check it one last time, and startled badly when it rang in his hand. He fumbled it, cursing, and barely managed to avoid dropping it. Pathetically grateful that he'd not lost the call, he answered and held the phone to his ear. 'Cas, is that you?'

'Yes, Dean.'

'Jesus, Cas! Where have you been? Are you okay?'

'I...,' he stopped, cleared his throat. 'I've been better.'

'Cas, did you, um, you know... fall? Are you human now?'

Castiel sighed, 'It would seem so, yes.'

'Aw, hell. I'm sorry, man. Tell me where you are, I'll come get you.'

'I'm just outside a Biggerson's, the one we went to that time...'

'Yeah, yeah!', Dean cut him off, 'And that waitress was totally hitting on you, and you were completely oblivious.' Dean was grinning like an idiot, but he didn't care. He'd been making himself nuts, worrying about Cas, and to hear his voice made something inside him light up with joy. 'Stay put, I can be there in an hour.'

Dean looked to Sam, who waved him away, 'Go on, I told you, I'm fine. In fact, I'm going back to bed.' He tossed an apple and a bottle of water to Dean, 'Here, Cas hasn't got any money and it probably hasn't occurred to him yet that he has to eat now.'

The idea that Cas wasn't taking care of himself sent a flash of worry/fear through Dean. The urgency he felt to get to Cas increased. He turned and headed for the exit to the bunker.

Sam called after him, 'Say hi to Cas for me, and don't wake me when you get home.'

* * *

Dean's hands clenched and unclenched on the steering wheel as he drove. God, he was nervous! It felt as though something had been coming to a head between him and Castiel for a long time now, and a vast change loomed, like an imminent lighting strike.

Had it really only been a few days since he'd sat in a bar with Castiel, nearly numb with despair at the idea that Cas would soon be gone for good? Castiel had planned to shut the Gates of Heaven, with himself on the other side. Dean had done his best to be supportive, knowing his friend was trying to do what was best for everyone, but the thought of never seeing Castiel again? It had been slowly breaking him.

Looking back, Dean realized that he'd been having more-than-just-friendly feelings for Castiel for a long time now. It had been easy to ignore, because more-than had never seemed like any kind of real possibility, for two reasons. First, Castiel was in a male vessel, and Dean had always considered himself to be strictly straight. Second, hello, Angel-of-the-freaking-Lord! Heaven surely did not condone carnality, especially between members of the same sex, and certainly not for angels.

But one of those assumptions had been blown to bits in that very bar. The Cupid they'd been hoping to intercept had put two guys together, right in front of them. Dean had been stunned. Heaven was not only okay with gay relationships, it actually took action to facilitate them? Dean hadn't really had time to process that little revelation just then, but while waiting for Sam to recover, that fact had kept pushing itself back into his consciousness.

And now, oh god, now Castiel was no longer an angel. Despite all his issues with Heaven, and his contempt for angels in general and certain not-so-angelic angels in particular, Dean still harbored a sense of awe when it came to Castiel. He recalled again that night in the barn, when he'd seen the shadow of wide-spread wings as thunder rolled and lightning flashed. He'd felt himself a tiny, insignificant creature, doing his best not to quail in the face of a power both mighty and pure. He'd since come to feel comfortable in Cas' presence, but his very nature had always given Dean a sense of can't-touch-this that he'd felt helpless to overcome.

And, of course, Dean had been in denial that he'd even wanted to touch anything. Desperate for the approval of a barely-there father, Dean had moulded himself into the man he thought his father wanted him to be. John, he was certain, would have never been okay with the idea that one of his sons was gay, or even bisexual. So Dean had built a macho, womanizing personality, and convinced himself that this was who he was.

But John had been gone for a long time, and Dean had lived through some majorly life-changing events; that sort of thing tended to help you to know yourself. There'd been clues, of course. He'd blushed and been unable to maintain eye contact when he first met Dr. Sexy, in that TV-land dreamscape of Gabriel's. And let's face it, he'd had a bit of a fanboy crush on the debonair Eliot Ness.

He'd been true to his promise to Sam, he'd given the apple-pie life an honest effort. Living with Lisa and Ben had been pretty sweet, though he'd had a hard time appreciating it while struggling with the weight of horror, guilt, and despair, unable to stop thinking of Sam locked in the pit with Michael and Lucifer. Lisa had been wonderful, so caring and compassionate, and he'd tried his best to return her affections. But though he'd loved her, and they'd shared a bed for months, they'd only had sex a few times. Those few had been slow and tender, more a sharing of comfort than anything else. But there'd been no passion, no fire, between them. His body had known better than his brain, that it hadn't been right.

And he'd missed Cas, really missed him, during those months of trying to live a normal life. And when he'd been separated from Castiel in Purgatory, he'd been out of his mind with worry. He'd searched relentlessly, and when he'd finally found him, he'd hugged Cas tight, overwhelmed with emotion. It was then that he began to suspect that he was in love with his angel.

They'd been separated again, and when they'd been reunited in that motel room, he'd been wary and upset, not knowing how Castiel had gotten out after Dean had failed to free him from Purgatory. He'd been trying to keep his distance, but when Cas had emerged from the bathroom, all cleaned up and looking like his old self, Dean had been consumed by an insane urge to throw himself at the angel. He'd sat paralyzed, having to fight with everything in him to overcome the impulse. It had passed, but left him shaken and disturbed. After that, the dreams had started, the sweaty, oh-so-inappropriate dreams.

Considering the current state of his nerves, Dean was pretty sure he'd given up on fighting his attraction for Castiel. The thing that was setting butterflies to wing in his stomach, was that he had no idea how Castiel felt about him. Oh, he knew Cas felt them to have a 'profound bond', but what did that really mean to an angel? He figured that Castiel must love him in some sense, what with all he'd given up for Dean. His feelings had been strong enough to break Naomi's mind control when she'd ordered Cas to kill him. But would he be disgusted, if Dean showed an interest beyond brotherly affection? He'd seemed happy, when he was living with that woman during his period of amnesia. Oh holy gods, was he technically still married to her?

Deciding to back-burner these crazy-making ideas for now, Dean turned his mind to more immediate issues. His friend needed him right now. Castiel had some huge adjustments ahead of him, learning how to cope with being human. He might have lived as one when he thought he was Emmanuel, but he'd still been an angel; he hadn't actually needed food, drink, sleep or sex. The needs of a human body were bound to be a revelation to Castiel, and he was probably not going to be happy about having to cope with them. It would be hugely selfish of Dean to pressure him, maybe making him too uncomfortable to lean on Dean when he most needed to do so.

Yes, Dean would wait, and hopefully he'd be able to pick up some clues as to how Cas felt about him, from his behavior. After all, they'd be living together in close proximity now, and he had an excuse to spend lots of time with Cas, teaching him stuff. So, he'd have ample opportunity for observation; conclusions to follow.

* * *

Dean pulled into the Biggerson's parking lot, and saw his angel standing beneath a street lamp. Ex-angel now, he reminded himself, though Cas looked as remote and regal as ever. Dean pulled up beside him, and Castiel wearily lowered himself into the passenger seat.

Now Dean could see the difference in him, and he was suddenly reminded of Purgatory!Cas. Not that he was as grimy, but he was clearly exhausted and sporting a 2-day growth of beard. God help him, Dean thought the stubble made him look dangerous, and sexy. Castiel also smelled of road dust and sweat. Cas had never really smelled like anything before, and Dean felt his heart lurch in his chest.

'Hey, Cas,' he said softly. 'It's good to see you.'

'Hello, Dean. Thank you for coming.'

'Of course! I'd have come sooner, if you'd called to let me know where you were. What the hell happened?' As he spoke, he turned the car around, and headed back the way he'd come.

Castiel grimaced, and slumped in his seat. 'I am a great fool. Metatron led me to believe that we were performing a ritual that would close the Gates of Heaven, but that was never his intention. He wished only to exact his revenge, and he used me to do it. He stole my Grace as the final component in a great working that expelled all angels from Heaven. Once again, I am the cause of great suffering amongst my brethren. I have been struggling with the shame of it, these past days. That is why I did not call.'

'That douchebag! I knew there was something off about that guy.' He glanced at the morose figure of his friend, 'Don't beat yourself up Cas, we all get played sometimes. This is his doing, not yours.'

'You are kind to say it, but I feel that I should have known. I should have done something to stop him.'

'20-20 hindsight, it's a bitch. But it's not a crime to be gullible, to trust where you shouldn't. In fact, it's pretty damn human.'

'I don't know how to be human.'

'Didn't you live as one, when you were being Emmanuel? You'd lost your memory, you didn't know you weren't human, then.'

'I did not know what I was, but it was clear that I was in some way different. Daphne quickly realized that, when I showed no interest in the food and drink she offered me, yet I did not weaken. She was a devout woman, and I believe she sensed something of my true nature. She chose the name Emmanuel for me. It means 'God is with us'.'

'Oh. Well, that's okay. We'll help you deal with being human, until we find a way to get your mojo back. Think of it as an adventure - eating, sleeping, fucking, everything - being truly embodied now, it's all new to you. Damn, I might be a little bit envious.'

'You can have it.'

Dean laughed, 'You sound more human already.' He reached into the back, and passed Castiel the small bag holding the food and water. 'Are you hungry, thirsty? How have you been coping?'

Castiel uncapped the bottle of water, and lifting it to his lips, he drank greedily until he'd downed the contents. Watching from the corner of his eye, Dean felt a little guilty that he'd only brought the one, and a little turned on by Cas' evident enjoyment of the refreshing liquid.

'I had no money for food, but water is freely available from bathroom taps. It seems an inefficient system, to frequently have to ingest it, only to be required to eliminate it a short time afterward. I was very uncomfortable before I realized what the pressure in my abdomen indicated.'

Dean grinned at the disgruntled tone, 'Yeah, well, that's just one of the many joys of being human. You'll get used to it, and there are plenty of things that are more fun to ingest than water. Try the apple. It's not as good as it would be in a pie, but let's start you off slow.'

Castiel looked at the apple dubiously, then took a tentative bite. Dean glanced over when he heard the slow, juicy crunch, and grinned again at the surprised look on Castiel's face. Chewing slowly, savoring the flavor bursting on his tongue, Castiel closed his eyes and moaned with delight.

Dean lost his grin and jerked his eyes back to the road as the erotic sound shot tingles down his spine, straight to his dick. He held his breath as Cas took a second bite, and sure enough, he groaned again, soft and low. Sweat broke out on Dean's brow, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Damn, how many bites did it take to eat an apple? This teaching Cas to be human thing might turn out to be considerably more of a trial than Dean had anticipated.

* * *

The bunker was quiet when they came in. Sam had gone off to bed, and presumably Kevin had too. Castiel had visited the bunker before, but Dean was feeling nervous again, now that he was here to stay. Cas needed a home, he needed their help, and Dean wanted him to feel welcome.

Dean ushered a docile Castiel inside, all but babbling to fill the silence. 'We've got plenty of rooms, I'll make up a bed for you. I can find you a pair of sweats or something to sleep in, I'm sure you're tired. And you'll be wanting a shower, come on, it's this way.'

Castiel trailed after him, passively following without a word. Dean turned down the corridor to the living quarters, passed Sam's closed door and headed for a room at the far end of the hall, next door to his. He went inside and flipped on the light, wishing he had something better to offer than the bare and uninviting room. 'We'll personalize the place some, when you figure out what you want. But the beds are pretty comfy, and I'm right in the next room, if you need anything.'

Castiel seemed to snap out of a trance at that, 'You're leaving?'

'I'm just going to get you some clothes, bedding, towels, that sort of thing. You can hop in the shower, get cleaned up. You'll feel loads better, I swear.'

Cas looked at him dubiously, but obediently went into the bathroom. Dean heard the water come on in the shower, and turned to fetch the promised items. He hoped that Castiel knew enough about being human to handle the hygiene stuff without someone holding his hand, because damn, talk about your uncomfortable conversations.

Dean left a clean towel on the toilet seat, carefully keeping his eyes averted as he passed in front of the running shower. He was doing his best not to think of how very naked Castiel was, just beyond that opaque curtain, but the blush riding his cheeks proved his failure. He picked up the discarded pile of clothes, gently running a hand over the folded, familiar trenchcoat. He left a clean t-shirt, sweat pants, and a still-in-the-package pair of boxers on the counter by the sink. Then he went back into the room to make up the bed.

Dean was just smoothing the quilt back into place when he heard the thud of a falling body come from the bathroom. Alarmed, he flung open the door and found Castiel on his hands and knees on the floor. Clearly, he'd tripped getting out of the tub, and gone down hard. Without thinking, Dean rushed forward, falling to his knees beside him and reaching out to grasp his shoulders. 'Damn, Cas, you okay?'

Castiel shot him a look eloquent with pain and humiliation. 'My foot did not rise as high as I commanded it to, and it failed to clear the edge of the bathtub. I did not react in time to prevent a fall.'

Dean helped him to sit back on his haunches, though he was blushing furiously again at being so close to a yes, very naked indeed and also gleaming wet, Castiel. He spoke firmly to a portion of his anatomy that was not supposed to be reacting with such enthusiasm to that fact.

'That's something you'll have to learn to allow for; when a human body gets tired, it doesn't react the same. It gets slower, weaker, harder to control until it eventually gives out on you altogether. How long has it been since you slept?'

With Dean's assistance, Castiel got up. 'I have not, I do not sleep.' He picked up the towel and began to dry off.

Dean handed him the boxer shorts, careful to keep his eyes above waist level. 'Whaddya mean, you don't sleep? It's been days since The Fall, haven't you gone down at all?'

'No. Mostly, I walked.' He hissed with pain as he stepped carefully into the underwear, drawing Dean's attention to his feet.

'Holy mother of crap! Look at what you've done to yourself.' Dean pushed down on his shoulders, indicating that he should sit on the toilet seat. 'Stay there, I'll get the first aid kit. How were you not limping with all those broken blisters?' He rushed out of the room before Castiel could answer.

He returned quickly, and sat himself at Castiel's feet, gently lifting one into his lap to administer to it. He was as careful as he could be, but he knew he had to be hurting his friend, and his heart ached that Castiel's introduction to being human was going so poorly. He tried to divert Castiel's attention from what he was doing, by asking questions.

'You used to sleep, didn't you, when you were living with Daphne? You were married, you shared a bed, you didn't just lie awake next to her all night, did you?'

'I did not share her bed, nor were we truly married. She insisted that we perpetuate that subterfuge, to protect me from those who would take advantage of my healing abilities.' He gasped a little, heartily wishing he had those back as Dean smoothed antibiotic cream over a particularly painful spot before applying a bandage.

'Without my memory, I was innocent, ignorant of the evils of the world. Daphne took it upon herself to act as my protector. When she cut herself chopping vegetables, I automatically healed her, and she realized that I would be mobbed by the needy if controls were not put in place. She wished us to pretend to be husband and wife, so that she could claim some authority before those who wished to get past her, to me.'

'Oh,' Dean said, hoping that his profound relief at this little revelation didn't show on his face. Holy shit, did that mean that Castiel was _still_ a virgin? 'I, ah, I guess I can understand that. I'm glad she was there to take care of you.'

'She was very kind. Much as you are being, right now.'

Dean blushed again, his unruly mind immediately jumping to the stupid conclusion that Castiel was thinking of him like a wife. God, he was losing it. He was still horribly conscious that his head was at the level of Castiel's lap, and that Cas was wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. Handling Cas' feet was also getting to him. What was it about bare feet that was so damned sexy? And how the hell was he going to stand up without Cas noticing what had become a prominent erection?

'Well, you can sleep as long as you want now. It's quiet and safe here, you know how well protected this place is.'

Castiel had been watching Dean administer to his feet, but now he looked away, uncomfortable. 'I would prefer not to.'

'To not what? Sleep?' Finished, Dean put Castiel's second foot back on the floor and looked up at him. 'You don't really have a choice there, buddy. You're human now, and the body has needs. Sooner or later, it will take over and you'll sleep, like it or not. But why fight it? It feels great to sleep when you're tired, and you must be exhausted.'

Castiel reluctantly met Dean's eyes once more, 'To sleep is to lose consciousness, and I find that a fearful thing. I have always been aware, Dean. Surrendering to sleep feels like surrendering to death. I am afraid to not-be.' He hung his head, shamed to admit to this weakness.

Dean stared up at him, stunned. It hadn't occurred to him that Castiel would see it that way, but it suddenly made sense. Humans spent a large portion of their first years on the planet sleeping; it was natural to them, and a great comfort. But Castiel had never needed to sleep, had never had to surrender control to such an extent. Dean swallowed as he realized how scary such a prospect was, especially for a being who'd always been so powerful.

'Wow, yeah, I guess it would feel that way. Huh.' Castiel looked up, gratitude shining in his eyes at Dean's lack of judgement. 'It's really not so bad though, you'll get the hang of it. Really, you just have to relax, and it will happen all on its own. And you're not aware of the time you spend asleep, so it's like you shut your eyes and it's night, open them and it's morning. Easy as pie.'

Castiel snorted, 'How is it everything comes back to pie with you?'

Dean grinned and stood up, holding the first aid kit in front of him. 'That's the way, Cas. Keep a sense of humor, and you can get through anything.' He turned and led the way out of the bathroom. 'Come on, let's get you tucked in nice and cozy, and you'll be out like a light in no time.'

Castiel reluctantly followed, but only stood by the bed instead of getting into it. 'I am very tired, but I do not think I will be able to sleep. I do not feel at all relaxed.'

'Well, there are ways around that too,' Dean chuckled. 'Just spank the monkey around a little, and the post-orgasmic low will drag you right under.'

Castiel frowned at him in confusion, 'Spank the monkey? What monkey, and why would I wish to strike it?'

Dean rolled his eyes, mostly at himself for forgetting and using colloquial terms with clueless Castiel. 'Masturbation, dude. You get off, and the release relaxes you, big-time.'

Now it was Castiel's turn to blush. 'Oh. I, ah, I don't know how to do that either.'

And Dean was back to stunned. How could Castiel have inhabited a body, or well, vessel all this time, and not have explored it a little? Although, he supposed he could understand not feeling free to do so while the original owner was still at home, in there somewhere. But Jimmy had been gone since Castiel had been resurrected after Lucifer had blown him apart; that body had been all Castiel's for quite some time.

Dean's thoughts were thoroughly derailed by Castiel's next question. 'Maybe, you could show me?'

'Uh,' was the sound he made, feeling as if Castiel had just punched all the breath from his body. 'That's uh, kind of a private thing, you know?' But clearly he didn't, or he wouldn't be asking, duh. 'I mean, normally you don't, with another guy especially, it's just not...' Coherence seemed to be beyond him, given that most of the blood that was supposed to be feeding his brain had gone stampeding south.

'Never mind, Dean. I understand. I will find some other way to relax. I have heard that warm milk can be helpful. Do you have any milk?'

Dean didn't answer. He was frozen in place as his mind and body fought a brief but brutal war. He didn't want to take advantage of his friend, who was in a vulnerable state. But having Cas actually ask for what he so wanted to give was threatening to short-circuit his brain. How the hell was he supposed to resist?

Castiel was staring at him quizzically, and then he did it. He cocked his head in that adorable way, and spoke his name, 'Dean?'

Dean's brain shut down, and his body took over. He took the two steps that brought him up to Castiel, put one hand on his bare shoulder and the other behind his neck, and pulled him in until their lips met. Castiel gasped and shuddered, but didn't pull away. Dean licked at his slightly parted lips, and when they opened further, he slipped the former angel some tongue.

Castiel swayed forward, his arms going around Dean to clutch at the back of his shirt. With a little hum of enthusiasm, he tried to copy Dean's moves, bringing his own tongue into play. It was Dean's turn to shudder as he felt Cas harden against his stomach. He couldn't help but roll his own hips forward, pushing his arousal up against Castiel's. Even with the thick material of his jeans between them, Dean was amazed at how good that felt.

It was also weird to be kissing someone with stubble on their face. Oddly enough, he didn't find that off-putting, either; it was just a new and interesting sensation. Encouraged, Dean deepened the kiss, leading Cas, teaching him. Very quickly, Castiel's small noises turned to outright moans, and enthusiasm trended toward desperation. Dean broke away, gasping for air. Damn, but Cas learned fast. His uninhibited response was driving Dean wild. Castiel whimpered, and tried to draw Dean back for more kisses, but he held back. Barely.

'Cas. Cas, look at me.' He waited until those blue eyes were focused on his own. 'Is this what you want? Are you sure?'

A big, happy smile transformed Castiel's face, startling Dean, who couldn't recall ever seeing such a look on him before. 'Yes, Dean. I have always wanted this. I have always wanted you.'

Dean swallowed, humbled and touched. He vowed to make it good for his angel, and Cas would always be that to him, human or not. He stepped back, and took Castiel's hand. 'Come on, let's go to my room.' He grabbed the single pillow from the bed in passing, hoping that Castiel would be staying with him for the night.

Castiel didn't resist, following him into the hallway, and then the room next door. Dean let Cas walk past him, then locked the door behind them. The absolute last thing he wanted tonight was for his cock-blocking little brother to walk in on them at utterly the wrong moment. He silently thanked the builders of the bunker for their foresight in making the rooms pretty much soundproof. That degree of privacy was a real boon to men living in such close quarters. Castiel had already proven fairly vocal, and he really, really wanted to see what other sounds he could get him to make.

Cas wasn't playing shy, he'd gone straight to the bed, turned back the sheets, and crawled in. Eager to join him, Dean quickly stripped off his own clothing. He hesitated over removing his boxer-briefs, but decided fuck it, and dropped them as well. He stood at the side of the bed, fully naked and fully aroused, and watched Castiel for any sign of hesitation. He swore he could feel the heat of the gaze that moved over him, and thought he'd go up in flames when Cas' mouth dropped open slightly, and he licked those gorgeous lips.

Dean got onto the bed, and stretched out beside Castiel. He leaned in to kiss him, but stopped in sudden trepidation when Cas put a hand to his chest.

'Dean, if you would permit, I would like to explore your body. I have watched over you for so long, but I have never been able to touch you as I wished. May I touch you, Dean?'

Not trusting his voice, Dean merely nodded, then laid flat on his back. Every muscle taut with anticipation, his heart thudding in his chest, he waited to see what Castiel would do. He was already so hard, his dick stretched smooth and long over his abdomen, leaking pre-come. He wondered if Cas would touch him there, and had to close his eyes briefly as lust surged through him.

Castiel propped himself up on one arm and faced Dean, a serious expression on his face. He reached over with his free hand, and laid gentle fingertips on Dean's forearm. Even that small, simple touch sent an electrical charge through Dean, as if Cas' now-mortal form still held the power of his angelic origin. Cas slid his hand further forward, so that more of it was in contact with Dean's flesh. Shivers raced up Dean's arm, and gooseflesh broke out all over his body. He swallowed thickly, anticipation tightening his body still further.

Slowly, Castiel moved his hand along Dean's arm, fingers sliding over the smooth, tight muscle of the bicep, then along the curve of the shoulder. Dean, feeling suddenly weak as pleasure washed through him, let his head drop back into the soft cushion of the pillow.

Castiel's hand followed the line of the collarbone, then closed briefly over Dean's throat. Dean swallowed, feeling his Adam's apple bob against Cas' palm. Cas reached up to cup Dean's jaw, and ran a thumb over his lips, leaving them tingling. Cas carded gentle fingers through the short hair at Dean's temple, then fingertips traced the curve of his ear. Dean was unable to stop a shiver as, in passing, those warm, strong fingers caressed the sensitive spot behind his ear.

Castiel's hand travelled downward then, along the neck, then came to rest on Dean's chest, over his heart. Dean became suddenly aware of his heartbeat, which had picked up the pace. His breathing had become erratic too, and he was hyper-aware of how both caused his chest to move beneath that questing hand.

Cas spread his fingers, and one brushed over Dean's nipple. Dean jerked and gasped, jolted by the sudden spike of pleasure. He felt his dick pulse, bobbing with eagerness for a similar touch. He couldn't believe how turned on he was. The innocence inherent in the way Cas touched him was electrifying, he felt like it was his own first time again.

Finding Dean's reaction curious, Castiel now deliberately brushed his fingers over the same nipple. A fine trembling began in Dean's muscles, as he fought to hold himself still. Cas moved his hand to the other nipple, and Dean had to grip the sheets, the urge to writhe strengthening.

'Are you all right, Dean?', Castiel asked. 'You are shaking.'

'Don't worry about it, Cas,' Dean told him, surprised by how husky his voice had grown. 'It just means you're turning me on.'

Cas nodded, and still watching him with that oh-so-serious expression, continued to explore Dean's body. He ran his hand along Dean's side, fingers passing over the smooth bump of ribs, and Dean did involuntarily flinch away. He was ticklish, dammit!

After a brief hesitation, Cas returned to touching his chest, then began to move downward again. Dean's stomach muscles tightened, popping his six-pack for Cas' fingers to savor. Dean was panting now, nearly twitching with anticipation as Cas neared his swollen dick. He was rock hard, as if by swelling big enough his cock could reach the touch it so craved.

Cas ran his hand along Dean's abdomen, but to one side, avoiding direct contact with his penis. His fingers brushed a hip, and Dean's head thrashed on the pillow. 'Please,' he croaked, 'please, Cas. _Touch_ me.'

As if he'd been awaiting permission, Cas brought his hand up to hover directly over Dean's dick. Dean held his breath, then lost it in a rush as Cas gently, so gently settled his fingers over the shaft. He ran a light but reverent touch along the length, learning its textures. Dean realized something in that moment. Castiel had no idea how to touch an erect penis, and being in a male body, that was something he really should know. But, he'd been human for mere days, and clearly hadn't gotten around to exploring his body fully.

It was obvious that Castiel was a virgin, but the extent of his innocence was a revelation, and somehow massively erotic. Just then, Cas folded his hand around Dean's dick, and gripped him tight. Dean's whole body seized, arching off the bed as he thrust upward into Castiel's fist. He grabbed Cas' wrist, and held him still as he waited for his muscles to let go, to let him fall back onto the bed.

'Dean?', Castiel asked, a note of concern in his voice.

'Don't move, Cas, for Christ's sake. If you move, I'm gonna go off like a rocket.'

'Does it not usually require much more stimulation?' Castiel said, 'It certainly seemed so, when I saw you pleasure yourself some nights, as I watched over you.'

Cas had watched him? While he...? _God!_ Dean's body seized again, even though Cas had remained unmoving. He trembled on the very verge of orgasm, unbearably aroused. When the spasm passed he collapsed back to the bed, gasping and shaking. Remembering what Dean had done to himself, Cas tightened his grip, and slid his hand upward. Dean cried out, and helplessly thrust upward. Cas' hand had picked up slickness from the pre-come drooling from Dean's dick, and now slid easily down the shaft again.

'Cas, god, _Cas_!', Dean yelled, pistoning into Cas' hand. This time, when he arched in seizure, hot jets of come pumped out to paint his stomach and chest. He didn't see, his head was pushed hard into the pillow, eyes rolled back. His brain whited out, blasted by pleasure.

When Dean returned to himself, he felt weak and shaky, his limbs leaden. He couldn't remember when he'd ever come so hard. He opened his eyes to see Castiel intently watching him, his features drawn fine with tension.

'That was a very interesting experience, Dean. Thank you for sharing it with me.' His voice was at least an octave lower than usual, and full of gravel.

Dean smiled, slow and sensual. 'Oh, we're not done, Cas. Now it's your turn.' He almost chuckled at the way Castiel's eyes widened and darkened, pupils blown with lust. His worry that Cas might not be into men was dispelled by the massive tent in the front of his boxer shorts.

'Lose the underwear, dude,' he told him, and laying back, Castiel complied. Dean sat up, and reached to his beside table for Kleenex and lube. He wiped the worst of the mess off his chest, and put the lube near to hand. Then he lay on his left side, and leaned over Castiel. Cas was already breathing hard, and his dick was a glorious sight to see. Long, hard, and thick, it was a prime specimen. From the pre-come beading its head, it was also dearly in need of some attention.

Dean felt a thrilling sense of power, along with a daunting awareness of responsibility. He was about to give an angel his first time. And that's how he still thought of Castiel, regardless of the state of his Grace. There was an ancient and powerful being still resident behind those eyes, and Dean was irresistably drawn to him.

In a way, this was Dean's first time too, since he'd not been with a man before. At least, knowing what he liked himself, he should be able to pleasure Cas. He'd stick to the simple stuff this time around, and if all went well, they'd figure out the rest together. God, he really hoped Cas was gonna like this, he already wanted there to be a next time, and a next, and many more.

He began by mirroring Castiel's moves with him. He ran his hand up the arm nearest to him, over the shoulder, and up the neck. He could feel Castiel's pulse throbbing in his throat. Putting his hand behind Cas' head, he broke the pattern, leaning down to touch his lips to Cas'. Cas inhaled sharply, and Dean angled his head, pressing his lips more firmly to Cas' parted ones. He flicked his tongue along Cas' lips, and Cas automatically opened his mouth wider. Accepting the invitation, Dean thrust his tongue into Cas' mouth.

Castiel moaned and raised his head, his own hand coming up to press against the back of Dean's. Dean explored Cas' mouth, and shuddered with renewed passion as Cas enthusiastically kissed him back.

Dean kept up the kiss, but moved his hand down to Castiel's chest. Gently, he raked his fingernails over one of Cas' nipples, and thrilled at the convulsive jerk. Pulling back, he lowered his head, and licked at the other nipple. Cas' head thudded back onto the pillow, and he gasped for air; now he was the one shaking.

'Dean?' Cas asked, sounding both bewildered and desperate. He raised his head and shoulders off the bed, and looked about ready to bolt.

Dean lifted his head, and looked deep into Castiel's impossibly blue eyes. 'Don't fight it, Cas. Just let it come. I've got you.'  Dean was humbled by the trust in those eyes as Cas nodded, and let himself fall back. Dean found the lube, and poured some into his right hand. He rubbed his hands together, getting his fingers slick and warm.

Then, needing to see his reaction, Dean kept his eyes on Cas' face as he blindly reached down and found Cas' dick. Closing it in his fist, he was treated to the sight of Castiel feeling the first true shock of lust.

'Dean!', Castiel shouted, and flailed for something to hang onto. He grabbed onto the arm Dean was using to support himself, and fisted the sheet in his other hand. Dean gave Cas' dick one slow pump, and Cas arched upward, muscles straining. Dean thought the sight of a desperate Cas to be one of the best of his life.

Dean circled the head of Cas' penis, then passed his thumb over the slit. Castiel writhed under him, not knowing how to process the impossibly intense sensations. Dean slid his hand back down the shaft, and Cas automatically thrust up into his fist. 'Dean, ahhh!'

Dean set a rhythm, pumping upward, circling the head, gripping tight, and sliding down. Castiel was gasping, almost sobbing, thrusting helplessly in time with Dean's strokes. His head thrashed back and forth, sweat standing out on his brow. Dean picked up the pace, and Cas' mouth opened, a scream strangling in his throat.

'Let go, Cas,' Dean urged. 'Come for me.' As if responding to a command, Castiel thrust hard, his whole body rising off the bed, and yelled ' _Deeean_!!'. Dean felt the pulsations in Cas' dick, as his body released in violent surges. Dean gently stroked him through it, knowing from experience when to stop and let go.

Cas collapsed into a trembling heap, his arm falling away from Dean as his strength drained with the waning of his first-ever orgasm. Stunned blue eyes met Dean's, and unable to resist, Dean leaned in and kissed him again, slowly and tenderly this time. Castiel sighed with pleasure, and his body relaxed, sinking back into the bed. 

'Be right back,' Dean murmured, and got up to fetch a warm washcloth. He returned to find Cas hovering at the edge of sleep, but still not quite able to let go. With tender care, Dean cleaned away the evidence of their activity, then got back into bed beside him. 

'Sleep is nothing to fear, Cas', he told the desperately tired man. 'It's a pleasure, too. You just have to let it take you over, like an orgasm. That was good, right?' Cas nodded slowly, like even that small motion was almost too much effort for him.

'How about I watch over you for a change?', he offered, opening his arms in invitation. Cas eagerly rolled over, snuggling into Dean, pillowing his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean closed his arms around him, and felt Cas relax under the gentle pressure of the hug. Cas' blue eyes, blurry with fatigue, met his. 'Thank you, Dean. For everything.' Then he laid his head down on Dean's shoulder again, and within two breaths was fast asleep.

Dean lay there, reveling in the trust that Cas had accorded him, the gift of intimacy. How had he come to be so lucky? No way he was worthy of this amazing being's regard, but for some unknowable reason, Castiel loved him. And, he now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, he loved Cas. Smiling, he pressed a kiss to the top of that beloved, dark-haired head and whispered, 'Rest, my angel.' 


	2. Eating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newly-human Castiel is hungry, and Dean is happy to show him how much fun eating can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For RulerofNothing, eyecandy, and Malonami, who left such wonderful comments, and who asked for more.

Dean drifted into consciousness, slowly becoming aware of the long, strong body snuggled up to his own. Warm breath ghosted over his collarbone, from the nose tucked into the crook of his neck. He was lying on his left side, arms wrapped around, _holy hell_ , Castiel!

Dean drew a sharp breath as memory of the previous night's events washed over him in a spine-tingling rush. Cas had given him one of the best orgasms of his life, and in turn, he'd given Castiel his first. But it was the upwelling of tenderness for the man in his arms that mattered more to Dean in that moment. He'd discovered how precious Castiel was to him, and now lay quietly luxuriating in the joy of it.

That didn't mean he was unaware of Castiel's physical allure, however. They were pressed together all along their fronts, and Dean was conscious of every naked inch of sleep-warmed flesh. Cas shifted subtly, and Dean nearly groaned as his erection brushed up against Castiel's. Morning wood turned to iron at that first-time-ever sensation.

Dean wasn't given a chance to enjoy the experience though, for Castiel suddenly awoke with a strong, full-body jerk. His head flew up, eyes casting wildly about as he fought to orient himself. Dean automatically tightened his arms to hold Cas in place, as he seemed about to leap away.

'Whoa, whoa! Cas, hey, you're okay. You're alright.' Castiel's eyes flew to his, and after a frozen moment, Cas relaxed with a sigh. He pressed his forehead to Dean's, and closed his eyes a moment.

'Dean,' he breathed. 'I was asleep.' His eyes, reopened, reflected mild shock.

Dean grinned. 'Yeah, Cas. You did it. All night long.' Castiel had been freaked at the prospect of sleeping, fearful of the loss of both consciousness and control. The drugging influence of exhaustion and pleasure, combined with the reassurance of Dean's protective embrace, had finally been enough to overcome his reluctance.

'Is awakening always such a disconcerting experience?'

'Naw, that's unusual. Your subconscious remembered feeling unsafe before you fell asleep, and you're in a place that's strange to you. That was enough to have you on alert when you came to. Now that you've experienced a good night, you should wake up easy next time.'

Castiel looked unhappy at the reminder that there would have to be a next time. Dean decided he could use a little distraction, so he deliberately rolled his hips, causing his erection to drag along the length of Castiel's. Cas' pupils blew wide, and he sucked in a shocked breath. His hips jerked, his body automatically seeking more of the pleasure that resulted from the delicious friction.

Dean took Cas' parted lips as an invitation, and leaned in for a good morning kiss. Castiel moaned into his mouth, responding with the eagerness of someone who has just recently been introduced to the raptures of the flesh. Dean enjoyed the kiss, but made a mental note to see about finding a toothbrush for Cas, when they got up.

Dean's hands caressed Castiel's back, as he slowly thrust against him again. His erection slid between their abdomens a little more easily this time, the first drops of pre-come providing a bit of slickness. A light sweat had also broken out between them, their body temperatures rising along with their interest.

Castiel squirmed against Dean, urgency growing rapidly. His hands clutched at Dean's shoulders, trying to pull him even closer. He thrust his own hips forward, pushing more strongly as he sought an increase in sensation.

Dean reached a hand between them, aligning their cocks so as to maximize contact. Castiel broke away from the kiss, gasping for air. His head fell back, and he began to thrust faster and faster, rutting against Dean in sudden desperation. Dean gripped as much as he could of their two dicks, as they slipped and slid against each other.

'D-Dean,' Castiel cried, fingers digging into Dean's shoulders. His back arched, and then he was coming, sudden spurts creating a pool of wet warmth between them. Dean shifted his hold, taking himself in hand; only a few strong strokes were needed to bring him off, too.

Panting, they stilled, relaxing once more into each other's embrace. Dean smiled, looking deep into Castiel's beautiful blue eyes. 'Good morning,' he murmured, and kissed Cas again. They gently explored each other's mouths, just enjoying being close as they came down from the high.

Dean would have been happy to stay where he was, but a sudden, strong growl from Castiel's stomach reminded him that he wasn't taking very good care of his lover. Dean's protective instincts surged to the fore, and he pulled back to look Castiel in the eye. 'Damn, Cas. You're starving, aren't you?' 

'I suppose I must be. I am given to understand that humans need to ingest food at regular intervals, and I have eaten but the once so far.' Dean had provided him an apple in the car last night, which he'd consumed with great enjoyment on the ride back to the bunker. It had been the first food he took in, though he'd been human for more than two days at that point.

'We need to get you fed!' Dean pulled away, grimacing slightly at the feel of his stomach sticking briefly to Cas', before the weak glue of drying come gave way. 'And we both need a shower. Come on, get up.'

Dean tossed Castiel the underwear he'd discarded the night before. 'Here, it'll be faster if you shower in your room. I'll clean up in here.'

'My room? Will I not be staying here, with you?'

'I certainly hope you'll keep sleeping with me,' Dean replied, giving Cas' still naked body a lascivious once-over. 'But you should have your own space, somewhere you can retreat to if you feel the need to be alone.'

'I see. Very well.' Cas donned the underwear and left without further ado.

Dean shook his head at Castiel's matter-of-fact morning-after attitude; so typical, and so endearing. Then, near to whistling with cheer, he headed for the shower.

* * *

Dean followed the delicious smell of frying bacon to the kitchen, where he found Sam at the stove. Kevin was slicing bananas into a large bowl of fruit salad. Dean helped himself to a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, watching them work.

Sam glanced over, then reached for more eggs. 'Morning, Dean. Did you find Cas okay?'

'Yeah, he'll be out in a minute. He's in the shower. I put him in the room next to mine.'

Sam nodded, unsurprised. Of course Dean would want to keep Castiel close by. 'So, what's the deal with The Fall?'

'That douche Metatron tricked Cas into helping him with a spell that would throw the angels out of Heaven. Get this, he stole Cas' Grace as the final component. That's why he's human.'

Sam looked at Dean, shocked. 'That's horrible! Poor Cas.'

'Yeah, and he feels terrible about being duped like that. Insult on injury.'

'Man, that sucks. Well, it's good that he's here. We'll help him figure out what's next.'

Dean nodded, 'Damn straight.' He smiled in welcome as a bare-footed Castiel walked into the kitchen. He was wearing the clothes Dean had put out for him the night before, and he looked young and innocent in the sweatpants and AC/DC t-shirt. His still-damp hair stuck up at odd angles and Dean added comb to his mental list.

Sam picked up his coffee, and blew on it before lifting it to his mouth for a careful sip. As he did so, Castiel walked straight up to Dean and lifted his face for a kiss. Without hesitation, Dean took his mouth, lifting one hand to cradle Castiel's stubbled jaw. Sam gasped in shock, and inhaled a goodly amount of scalding liquid.

Dean tucked Castiel up against his side and enjoyed a good laugh at his brother's expense. Sam was doubled over, coughing fit to hack up a lung, tears in his eyes as he fought to breathe past the pain. Kevin looked on, wide-eyed.

'W-what the hell, Dean?!', Sam gasped, when he could get the words out.

'You got a problem, Sam?', Dean asked, smirking. He was honestly a little nervous about Sam's reaction, but his new relationship with Castiel meant too much to him to try to hide it. Sam would just have to learn to deal.

Sam stared at the couple, feeling off-balance as a huge perspective shift rearranged his thoughts. As his new understanding of his brother settled into place, he realized that a part of him was in no way surprised. On some level, he'd known. He actually felt a little stupid that he hadn't seen it before now. After all that eye-fucking between Dean and Castiel, really? God, he could be slow.

He smiled at Dean acceptingly. 'No, no problem. Just a little surprised, that's all.' He shifted his gaze to Dean's partner. 'Welcome to the family, Cas.'

Castiel cocked his head to the side, not entirely sure he was following the conversational undercurrents. But as usual, he took Sam's words at face value. 'Thank you, Sam. You are looking well.' Dean had filled him in on the events in the church after Castiel had returned him there, while they were driving back to the bunker.

Sam turned back to the stove to rescue the burning bacon. 'Yeah, I'm good. Crowley fixed me right up.' His voice was bitter, the failure of his quest still stinging.

Dean sought to change the subject, uncomfortable with his role in his brother's pain. Unwilling to lose Sam, he'd been the one to convince him to give up, despite all he'd gone through. 'Listen, you were right. Cas hasn't been eating, and he's starved.'

Sam nodded, 'I'll have a hot breakfast ready shortly. Why don't you two start ahead, the fruit salad is ready.'

Dean looked to Kevin, who still wore a startled expression. Recovering quickly, Kevin got out a couple of small bowls, filled them from the larger one, and handed them to Dean. 'Thanks, man.'

Kevin smiled hesitantly, 'You're welcome.' He looked at Castiel, 'I hope you like it.'

'Let's find out. Come on, Cas.' Dean handed him one of the bowls, grabbed a couple of spoons and led the way into the next room. Castiel followed him, but Kevin stayed behind to make toast. They settled at the table, and Dean handed Castiel a spoon. 'Don't eat too fast, you don't want to make yourself sick.'

Castiel didn't tear into the food the way a hungry human normally would. He didn't yet make the connection between the gnawing in his gut and a need for food. So his movements were slow and deliberate as he selected a chunk of orange-colored fruit, and lifted it to his mouth. He let it sit on his tongue a moment, then bit into it, releasing its juices. A pleasant taste flooded his mouth, and he hmm'd in appreciation.

Dean ate a piece of melon too, wanting to share the experience with Castiel. He tried to imagine what it would be like, to be tasting it for the first time. He copied Castiel as he tried a slice of banana next. Dean was thoroughly enjoying Cas' expressions and little noises; watching Castiel eat was one of his new favorite things.

Then he had to laugh as Cas' face twisted in disgust, and he spit something into his hand. 'Not a fan of grapefruit, Cas?'

'Is that what this pink fruit is? No, I do not like it. It is vile.'

'Well, you don't have to eat it. Just push those pieces aside.' Still chuckling, Dean got up to fetch some napkins. He returned with them and a couple of glasses of orange juice. 'Try the juice, it's a lot sweeter.'

Castiel took a tentative sip, then a larger mouthful. 'Yes, that is much more pleasant.'

Dean smiled and tucked that information away for future reference; his angel had a sweet tooth. Yummy odors filled the room then, as Sam and Kevin came in with platters holding scrambled eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, and toast. When Kevin returned from a second trip, Dean took one of the plates he was carrying and put some of everything on it. He put it down in front of Castiel, 'Tuck into that, it'll fill you way better than fruit.'

Castiel bit into a slice of bacon, knowing it to be a favorite food of Dean's, but he found it too salty for his taste. The eggs were another matter, those he consumed with enthusiasm. The buttery toast and crispy potatoes went down well, too. He was far from able to finish all that Dean had put onto his plate, though. He listened to his stomach when it signaled reluctance to receive any more food, and stopped eating.

Dean paused in his own eating, concerned. 'You okay there, Cas?'

'Yes, Dean. It was very good, but I have had enough.' He was pleased that the discomfort he'd been feeling had been replaced by warm contentment. His stomach felt slightly stretched, but not in a bad way. This must be what 'full' felt like.

'Don't push him, Dean,' Sam said. 'His digestive system is coping with food for the first time, you don't want to overload it. If he feels he should stop, he should trust that. Smaller, more frequent meals are probably best, at first.'

Dean shrugged, it made sense. He dumped the leftovers from Cas' plate onto his own; no point in wasting it.

'So what are we going to do about the angels?', Sam asked. 'Are they all human now, like Cas?'

'No, they retain their Grace,' Castiel answered him. 'But the spell destroyed their wings, leaving them stranded here on Earth. They are no doubt wroth, and extremely dangerous.'

'Well, that's reason enough for us to lay low,' Dean declared. He pointed his fork at Sam, 'You are still recovering, and Cas needs time to adjust. I'm declaring a holiday. We are going to ostrich it for a few days, and let the angels fend for themselves. The only angel in all of Heaven we care about is right here with us, anyway.'

Castiel gazed at Dean with adoration, making Sam a little uncomfortable. It wasn't so different from the way he'd always stared at Dean, but Sam was seeing it in a whole new light. He was fine with their relationship, really he was, but it was going to take some getting used to! 'I'm, ah, I'm good with that.'

'Cool. Who wants to watch a movie?'

* * *

Given the way Castiel's head had been nodding, Dean was pretty sure he hadn't followed much of the last half hour of the 2nd movie. Aww, his poor widdle angel needed a nap. He was about as likely to take one as your average four-year-old though, so Dean was going to have to get creative.

'Cas. Hey, Cas.' He jostled Castiel's shoulder with his own. 'I bet you're sore, eh? After all that walking you did? How would you like a massage?'

Castiel straightened from his slumped position on the couch, and felt some muscles protest the movement. 'It is as you say, Dean. If you think a massage will be helpful, I would appreciate it.'

'Great. Let's go back to my room. You can stretch out on the bed, and I'll rub your legs.'

When they got there, Dean encouraged Cas to strip down to his boxers. 'You can't get a good massage through clothes, you know.' He had Castiel lie on his stomach, arms cradling the pillow on which he rested his head.

Dean rubbed his hands together briskly, generating as much warmth as he could with the friction. Then, starting just above the ankle, he massaged his way up Castiel's left calf, pressing his thumbs firmly into the tight muscles. Cas let out a long groan of pleasure, and relaxed beneath his hands.

Dean got into it, working his way up the leg to top of the thigh, then repeating his actions on the right leg. When he reached the point where the boxers were too much in the way, he skipped up to the lower back. Castiel was still making deep, appreciative noises, which were having the predictable side-effect of giving Dean a boner. Dean ignored it though, his focus was on making Castiel feel good.

By the time Dean had reached the shoulders, Castiel had quieted. His breathing had deepened, and he was boneless with relaxation. Dean gently massaged Cas' neck, and grinned when he got the response he'd been looking for - a soft snore.

Backing carefully off the bed, Dean stood and watched Castiel sleep for a few moments. His heart was filled with warmth as love swelled in him once more. Shaking his head at his girly tendencies, he backed quietly out of the room. His hard-on reminded him that there was some research he wanted to do, and this was the perfect opportunity. He went in search of the laptop, to look up the mechanics of gay sex.

* * *

Dean had been right. When Castiel awoke for the second time, it was a gentle transition. He thought about being annoyed with Dean for manipulating him, but decided that he felt too good to bother. Slight grumbling from his stomach prompted him to get up, and go in search of more food. He also had to relieve himself again. Really, this business of being human required a great deal of bodily maintenance! He'd never realized.

Dinner was a simple meal, tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. By this time, Castiel had caught on to the way Dean reacted to watching him eat. He began to play with that, deliberately repeating actions that Dean seemed most to like, such as licking his lips or spoon. He realized that Dean was especially susceptible to his vocalizations. By the end of the meal, he had Dean squirming in his seat, and felt that he'd gotten revenge for the nap trick. He was also thrilled at his new-found power to affect Dean sexually. This was fun!

Dean could hardly wait for the meal to be over. Between the massage, the tantalizing research he'd done while Cas slept, and the unknowingly sensual way Castiel had of eating, Dean was way too turned on to be sitting next to his little brother. The minute Cas was done with his food, Dean all but dragged him back to his room.

'I do not require any more sleep at this time, Dean,' Castiel protested. 'I believe I am sufficiently well rested now.'

Dean pushed Castiel in the direction of the bed, his hot gaze never leaving him as he locked the door behind them. 'I'm more interested in eating than sleeping,' Dean purred, his voice low and intense.

Castiel was confused, 'We just finished eating, did we not? Is there more to it?' 

'It's you I want to taste now, Cas. I want to put my mouth all over you. Get naked.'

Castiel's eyes widened at the growled command, and at the way his body reacted to it. He moved quickly to comply, his eyes on Dean as he also stripped away his clothing. Dean was on him the minute he was done, pulling him against his body and into a heated kiss. Castiel moaned as he felt his knees go weak.

Dean gasped at the sound, and pushed Cas back onto the bed. He crawled forward over Castiel's supine body, leaning down to suck at his neck. 'God, you drive me nuts, you know that? The noises you make! They go straight to my dick. You're turning me into a walking hard-on.'

Of course Castiel moaned again, and Dean had to press his erection up against Cas' thigh to relieve some of the pressure. He kissed his way down Castiel's neck to his chest, and spent an enjoyable, timeless period discovering the sensitivity of Cas' nipples. He found that this caused Cas to make lovely mewling, gasping sounds.

He moved lower, bypassing Castiel's straining dick to worship the graceful line of a hip with his mouth. Dean had always been partial to slim-hipped women, but Cas had the most beautiful hips he'd ever seen. Castiel didn't have the six-pack abs that Dean did, but he was slender and toned, his stomach perfectly flat. His hipbones cut the skin of his abdomen in lines that were pure poetry to the eye.

Dean followed that line down to Castiel's groin, breathing deeply of the sexy, musky scent emanating from that area. He pressed kisses to the tender flesh of the inner thigh, just below Cas' balls.

'Dean,' Castiel groaned, 'you are being a tease.'

'Oh, you think so? I guess I should try harder then.' Dean took a breath for courage, and ventured into unknown territory. He pressed his nose into Castiel's balls, then took a tentative lick. The tight, curly hair rasped over his tongue, and he tasted salt, sweat, and musk. The wrinkled skin moved away as Castiel's balls tightened and drew higher. Dean very gently drew one of the testicles into his mouth, rolling it over his tongue, learning its textures.

'Dean! What are you doing?' Castiel couldn't decide if he wanted to pull away from Dean's mouth, or push closer to it. He did know that his dick was crying for attention. He reached down to ease the ache.

Dean knocked Castiel's hand aside. 'Mine,' he growled. He pressed his mouth to the base of the thick, swollen cock, then dragged his tongue all the way up the shaft. Castiel shouted out, and thrust upward. Dean settled between Castiel's legs and put his weight on those slim hips, holding him down.

Dean used his hand to draw Castiel's dick up away from his abdomen, to give him better access. He closed his lips over the head, and licked up the pre-come that was leaking from the slit. One part of him paid attention to the salty-sweet taste, another was cataloguing the new and interesting noises Castiel was making.

Tilting the hard cock higher, Dean slid his mouth down over the heated shaft. He moved slowly, very conscious of how close the delicate skin was to all those teeth in his mouth. When he'd reached the limit of what he could fit in his mouth, he drew upward, sucking gently. Castiel's hands had settled on his head, but weren't trying to force him to move in any particular way. He probably didn't know quite what he needed, but couldn't keep his hands away.

'That felt very good, Dean. Please do that again.'

Dean wanted to grin at such a polite request spoken in such a wrecked voice, but his mouth was a little busy at the moment. He did as asked, repeatedly, and Castiel loudly voiced his approval.

Not able to get all the way to the base without triggering his gag reflex, Dean wrapped his hand around the spit-slick shaft below his mouth. He began to both suck and jerk Castiel off, mouth working in combination with his hand. Castiel's legs were trembling, and his hips were trying to rise despite Dean's restraining arms.

'Dean, ahhh, Dean that's so good! Hngh, yes, that's it, please keep doing that! _Ahhh_!'

Dean's own dick was rock hard, Castiel's pleas working like caressing fingers on his arousal. He sped his motions, sucking harder and adding a swirl round the head as he reached the top. Castiel's whole body tensed, ready to blow. With his free hand, Dean pressed firm stroking fingers along the smooth area of skin behind Cas' balls, putting pressure on his prostate.

With a scream of pleasure, Cas arched hard, managing to push his dick deep into Dean's throat. Dean choked, trying to deal with that as well as the hot come suddenly flooding his mouth. He swallowed what he could of the bitter fluid, but some drooled out of the sides of his mouth anyway as Cas continued to work his dick in and out.

When Castiel's hips stopped thrusting, Dean pulled off and looked up to see Castiel lying with arms splayed wide, chest heaving. He looked back at Dean with amazement.

'Now I see why humans spend so much time and effort on such activities. That is remarkably pleasing.'

Dean grinned, proud of his efforts. 'Glad you enjoyed yourself.' He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He reached down to grab his dick, desperate now to reach his own completion, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

'Wait, Dean. I wish to try that.' Castiel got off the bed and knelt in front of Dean. Dean spread his legs and leaned back on his elbows, giving Cas free access to his painfully hard cock. He gasped a little as Castiel's hand wrapped around it, then lost all the air in his lungs as Cas beautiful lips closed over the head.

'Fuck, Cas!' Wet warmth encased his dick, and Dean had to work hard not to thrust; the urge was strong. After one sucking pull Castiel backed off, then used his tongue and lips to tease Dean mercilessly, mouthing all along the shaft.

'Please, Cas! Eat me. Suck me down,' Dean begged.  

Castiel had mercy on him, and took Dean as deep as he could manage. Dean cried out, feeling his dick swell even larger as his orgasm approached. As he'd done, Castiel moved carefully at first, the slow pace causing Dean to make some of the same desperate noises Cas had. Finally, Cas began to bob up and down on his cock, adding suction and a tight grip; nobody could accuse him of being slow to learn.

'Cas, I'm close!', Dean warned. 'I'm gonna come, I'm... _Uh!_ ' He threw his head back and blew his load. Castiel coped like a champ, swallowing everything Dean had to give. Dean's arms gave out, and he collapsed back onto the bed, panting.

Castiel seemed energized from having successfully gotten Dean off. He stood and gazed down at him. 'You look tired, Dean. Would you like a massage?'

Dean decided that this sort of turnabout was the kind of fair play he could get behind. 'I wouldn't say no.'

Again, Castiel proved that he was a very fast learner.


	3. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas finds his place with the Winchesters, and they help him get settled in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out as a one-shot, but I was asked for more, and now I'm just enjoying myself. Pay no mind to the parts that resemble plot, this is still about the porn. There is no plan, people! I'm just ramblin' on...

Sam was surfing the web, searching the news for evidence of earth-bound angels in spite of Dean's declaration of a holiday. It bothered him, to not know what was going on. His attention was diverted by the entrance of the best source of angelic info at his disposal, as Castiel walked into the room. Cas came over to sit with him, sipping from a large glass of orange juice.

'Hey, Cas,' Sam greeted the newest member of his family. 'Where's Dean?' He'd fully expected Dean to be glued to Castiel's side, for the foreseeable future.

'Good evening, Sam. Dean is sleeping. He was very tired after his orgasm.'

Sam nearly choked on the mouthful of tea he'd just taken. New rule!, he thought ruefully. No eating or drinking when Castiel was speaking. God only knew what would come out of his mouth. His filter wasn't so much broken, as non-existent.

Cas cocked his head at Sam's reaction. 'Does it bother you, that I am having sex with Dean?'

'No!' Sam checked himself, hoping that Cas hadn't taken his embarrassed vehemence the wrong way. 'No, Cas, I think it's great that you two have finally gotten together. It's just kind of new to me, that's all.' He looked deep into Castiel's eyes, searching for any evidence that he was just going along with Dean's desires. 'This is what you wanted, right? Dean didn't, like, pressure you or anything?'

Castiel smiled softly, his eyes going dreamy as he thought about Dean. 'It is very much what I want. I have long desired your brother, even before I could put a name to what I was feeling. I did not expect that he would ever want me in return.'

Sam snorted. 'Trust Dean to take forever to figure it out. He's never been good at letting himself want anything for himself. I think you're going to be really good for him, Cas.'

'Thank you, Sam. I shall endeavor to make him happy.'

'He's already happier than I've seen him in a very long time. He thought I was too sick to notice, but he was depressed as hell when he thought you were going back to Heaven for good.'

Castiel broke eye contact, looking down at the table. 'I did not want to leave him! It was a very hard decision for me. I thought you would succeed at closing the Gates to Hell, and that, to preserve the balance, it was necessary to close the Gates to Heaven.'

Cas looked back up, soulful eyes entreating Sam to understand. 'I was led to believe,' and oh, his voice was bitter, 'that the ritual would recall all angels to Heaven, even Fallen ones. I did not see a way to exclude myself from that, though I wished nothing more than to stay. I proceeded with the ritual because I thought Dean, and the rest of humanity, would be better off without the interference of both Heaven and Hell. I did it for him, Sam!'

Sam sighed, of course he had. Cas was going to fit right into the self-sacrificing Winchester clan. 'Well, don't do it again, 'k? Now that he's let himself love you, it would kill him to lose you.'

Castiel looked away again, blushing, then glanced back with hopeful puppydog eyes. 'You think he loves me?'

Oh god, he was just too cute! Sam seriously wished he had a camera just then. He grinned widely at the thought of such an ancient being finding himself as insecure as any teenager with a crush. 'Cas, I think he's head over heels.' Then he laughed at Cas' perplexed, and slightly vexed, expression. He couldn't help himself, he teased with other obscure-to-Cas expressions, 'Hands down, beside himself, over the moon, gone.'

Castiel was outright frowning now, 'Sam, I do not understand what you are saying.' His frustration was evident in his voice, and Sam took pity.

'I think he's _completely_ in love with you, Cas.' Geez, the way Castiel beamed at that, Sam had to fight an instinct to shut his eyes, subconsciously expecting a wash of angelic Grace-light to explode through the room. 'It's probably going to be hard for him to say it, though,' he warned. 'Pay attention to his actions. Dean prefers to show people how much he loves them.'

Castiel nodded, his joy undimmed. 'Thank you for the reassurance, Sam. I hope you are correct in your assessment.'

'How are you doing, otherwise?', Sam asked, then berated himself for stupidity as he watched Castiel deflate.

'Physically, I am fine.' He smiled a little, acknowledging Sam's point. 'Your brother takes good care of me.' Then, more soberly, he listed his concerns. 'But I regret much. I should not have trusted Metatron, and now my family suffers because of me. I am also a burden to you and Dean. I have nothing to offer in return for your kindness, and I no longer have worth as a warrior. Without my Grace, I am weak and vulnerable. I have no power to smite or heal, and I lack facility with human weapons. I am useless.'

Sam reached over to grasp Castiel's forearm. 'No, Cas! You could never be worthless, or a burden! Kevin's no fighter, do you think he's not pulling his weight?'

'As a Prophet of the Lord, Kevin has a unique skill. His ability to translate the demon and angel tablets enables him to provide you with valuable information. He is deserving of your protection.'

'Just being who he is makes him deserving of our protection, Cas, whether he could do anything to help out or not. He's family now, just as you are, and we Winchesters always look out for our own. But if it's being useful that concerns you, you certainly are!'

Cas looked like he wanted to believe, but... 'In what way?'

'You are just as much a source of valuable, impossible-to-get-elsewhere information as Kevin! You haven't forgotten everything you learned as an angel, have you?'

'No, losing my Grace did not affect my memories.'

'Well, then! You are absolutely our best source of intel right now, as we've got a Heaven's-worth of angels running around loose on Earth, getting into God-knows what kind of mischief. Who better than you to answer all the questions that are bound to come up, as we try to figure out what to do about that?'

'I suppose.'

'And you can still speak any language, right? Read Enochian, translate sigils, all that stuff?'

'Languages new to me will now have to be learned as a human would, but I retain much knowledge, it is true.'

Sam grinned, and gestured widely. 'Look where you are, Cas! We're surrounded by knowledge and artifacts accumulated by the Men of Letters, and haven't begun to scratch the surface of it. How would you like a job as librarian, official Keeper of the Lore?'

Castiel's relief was palpable, he was all but glowing at finding a new purpose. 'I would be honoured.'

'Excellent. Now, to start, why don't you tell me what you think your brothers and sisters are doing, out there?' He swung the laptop around to where Castiel could see the screen, and pulled up the first news story he'd flagged as a possible angel sighting. 'Is this one of them?'

It was a long time before Castiel returned to bed.

* * *

Dean awoke early, feeling remarkably well-rested and refreshed. It had been years since he'd fallen asleep so profoundly relaxed, and he'd slept long and deep, dreamlessly. The reason for that lay snuggled up against his back, curled around him with a lax arm slung over his waist. He wanted nothing more than to stay right where he was, but his bladder wasn't going to cooperate with his wishes. Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from Castiel, moving slowly so as not to awaken him.

Castiel remained asleep as Dean moved about, using the bathroom and getting dressed. Dean was a little disappointed, he'd been hoping Cas would wake up, so they could have breakfast together. It had been mere hours since he'd shared his angel's company, but already he missed him. Damn, he had it bad.

There was still some pleasure to be had, though. He couldn't help but feel a primitive sort of satisfaction at the sight of Castiel, tucked safe and warm in _his_ bed. As far as Caveman!Dean was concerned, all was as it should be.

Dean quietly let himself out of the room, and headed for the kitchen. No one else was up yet, so he started coffee brewing, and contented himself with a bowl of cereal. Taking both to the table, he got to work putting on paper the list that he'd been mentally compiling since Cas' arrival. It was time they went shopping, because Cas needed _everything_. 

After awhile, a sleepy Sam wandered into the room, clutching his own coffee and more of the fruit salad from yesterday. Learning what Dean was working on, he offered suggestions of his own, thinking of a few things Dean hadn't.

'We need to hit a computer store, too. Kevin and I plan to get a server set up, with several terminals available for easy access the database we're also working on. We'll need to establish a communications network with other Hunters too, once we're in a position to help.'

'What, planning to turn this place into the new Bobby's?'

'It already is, Dean. We have all this information available here, but no way to access it rapidly when a Hunter is in need of it. Cas is going to get it organized for us, and Kevin will work on scanning stuff into the computer.'

'Wait, Cas is going to what?'

'We talked last night Dean, while you were sleeping. He was feeling pretty bad about being a burden on us...'

'That's bullshit!'

'I know! I told him that, but he needed a purpose, Dean. Giving him a job was the best way I could see of pulling him out of that funk. He liked the idea, I swear.'

'Huh. Well, if it's what he wants... But, I thought you were interested in doing that?'

'Oh, I enjoy exploring the archives, but I don't want to take on responsibility for them. I want to be free to go out and hunt whenever I want. I've been cooped up down here too much as it is, I'm getting squirrelly.'

'Yeah, Gigantors aren't made for small spaces,' Dean teased. 'I can see how frustrating...'

Castiel appeared in the doorway, and Dean stopped speaking mid-sentence, his attention thoroughly diverted. Sam saw how both their faces lit up as their eyes met. Castiel walked straight to Dean, and Sam was pretty sure he wasn't even aware that anyone else was in the room. The two of them were pretty freakin' adorable, really.

Dean pushed his chair back, looking up as Castiel put a hand to the back of his neck and leaned down for a good morning kiss. In a surprise move, Dean tugged Cas down into his lap, and proceeded to kiss him breathless. When he let him come up for air, Dean smiled into Cas' eyes. 'Hi,' he said, his voice deep and warm and intimate. Castiel just gazed back, too lost to remember how to form words.

Wow, Sam thought. Not cute. Awesome.

* * *

Castiel would have peeled off at his room to shower, but Dean tugged him past. He had some skin hunger issues going on, and a shared shower seemed like the perfect solution. Cas, bless him, had no objection.

The facilities in the bunker might be old, but fortunately the water pressure was great. And the hot water tank must be a monster, because he'd taken some looong showers, and they'd never turned cold on him. So Dean wasn't worried about running out of time, he could enjoy Cas' body at his leisure.

Cas, ever practical, started getting clean right away. Dean was fine with that. Cas' arms were lifted, hands busy with shampooing his hair, which left his long, strong torso wide open to Dean's eager touch. Dean grabbed the soap, and proceeded to get all that warm, wet flesh slick and sudsy.

Castiel moaned, freezing in place as Dean tucked himself up against his back, then ran his hands all over Cas' chest and belly. He could feel Dean's erection pressing into his lower back, and his own cock filled with a rapidity that astounded him. It seemed to have a life of its own, and it responded to Dean like a starving man to food. Then he was the one starving for more, as Dean's hot, slick hand made a thorough job of washing his dick and balls. Suddenly weak, he leaned back into Dean's embrace, one arm dropping to his side and the other reaching back to grab Dean's neck.

'You like that, huh?', Dean murmured in his ear. Cas turned his head and captured Dean's full, tempting lips. He held the kiss as long as he could, but Dean was evidently good at multitasking, and at driving Cas wild. His hands were everywhere, roaming from throat to thighs, and Castiel writhed beneath the sensual assault. Gasping, he dropped his head back to rest on Dean's shoulder, and slapped his free hand against the shower wall, needing the support.

Castiel was groaning, squirming, and pressing up against him, and Dean was so turned on he could barely breathe. He sucked at Cas' neck, desperate for more contact. Leaving one hand to play with Cas' nipples, he got the other good and soapy again, then brought it back to Cas' beautifully hard dick. Cas shouted out when he closed his hand around it, then began to babble as Dean began to stroke.

'Oh Dean, oh, so good, so _good_ ,' he moaned, thrusting into Dean's warm, slick grip. ' _Ah_ , yes! Like that, just like that, don't stop, mmm, ahhh...' Dean's hand moved faster, and Cas got louder and less coherent. 'Oh! Oh, oh, yes, Dean, please, yes, more, Dean, Dean, _Dean_ , _ahhhh_!!'

Cas arched hard against him, dick pulsing in his hand as he pumped come into the humid air of the shower. Dean shuddered with lust, nearly losing it himself just from feeling Cas come apart in his hold. He cradled Cas' suddenly limp form in his arms, giving them both a few moments of recovery.

Castiel soon straightened though, and turned on Dean with a predatory look in his eye. He took the soap from Dean, and turned them both so that Dean was the one now standing more under the warm spray. He had Dean face the front of the shower, and then began to give Dean one of the most thorough cleanings of his life.

'Wash your hair, Dean,' Cas instructed, 'this may take me awhile.' Dean groaned, but reached for the shampoo with a shaky hand. His dick was desperate for attention, but he liked it when Cas got a little bossy.

Starting at the shoulders, Castiel soaped and massaged his way down Dean's back. He kneaded Dean's firm buttocks, and slipped his fingers into the crack between, making sure Dean was quite clean, everywhere. Gasping, Dean pressed back against his fingers, but Castiel didn't linger. He turned Dean to face him, then took hold of one of his hands, and lovingly soaped and caressed each strong, calloused finger. He rubbed circles into Dean's palm with his thumb, and got a low moan in response.

Cas worked his way up Dean's arm to the shoulder, then continued down the other arm to give the second hand the same thorough treatment. Dean watched him with eyes gone hazy with lust, the pupils widening still further when Cas brought his hand to his mouth and sucked on the fingers he'd just cleaned. Dean's dick jumped, wanting that sinful mouth sucking on it, instead. God, where had Cas picked up these teasing techniques?

Holding eye contact, Castiel soaped up Dean's front, giving plenty of attention to his nipples in passing. Dean was breathing hard now, the steamy air of the shower holding far less oxygen than he currently required. Cas pressed admiring fingers into Dean's abs, seeking out each well-defined ridge. He washed all of Dean's abdomen, but passed his hands _under_ Dean's dick, just nudging it enough to get it out of the way. Dean tossed his head, a protest strangling in his throat. Did Cas want him to beg? Ok, he could do that. 'Cas, _please_!'

Dean reached for the shower wall to steady himself as Cas dropped to his knees in front of him. He held his breath, hoping that Cas was finally going to stop teasing and give him what he craved. But no, Cas picked up one of his feet, and started to give it the same thorough treatment as he'd given his hands. Dear god, Dean was going to _die_. 'Cas, please, _please_ , I can't wait, please, I _need_ you.'

Castiel looked up at him, and oh, how had he never seen the devil that lived inside his angel, until now? Cas' face shone with mischief, and he was definitely getting off on the power he had over Dean in this moment. Dean's heart sank; Cas wasn't going to be moved by his pleas, was he?

'Patience is a virtue, Dean,' Cas told him, refusing to be hurried in his ministrations. 'Your body is a temple, and it behooves me to worship it properly.' He worked his way up Dean's leg, massaging soap into the trembling thigh. His knuckles brushed up against Dean's taut balls, making him suck in a sharp breath that wooshed out in disappointment when Cas dropped back down to pick up Dean's other foot.

Fucking hell, this was taking way too long! Dean couldn't take it anymore. He knew Cas meant for him not to touch his own dick, but he just couldn't help it. He groaned with relief as he got in one good stroke before Cas grabbed his wrist in an iron grip.

'Ah, ah, Dean,' Cas chided him. 'If mine is yours, then it only follows that yours is mine.'

'Cas, you are _killing_ me,' Dean whined.

'I highly doubt that.' Cas smiled and pressed a fond kiss to Dean's dick. Dean shouted and thrust his hips forward, trying to get more of the all-too-brief contact. But Castiel leaned back, and picked up where he'd left off, cleaning each individual toe on Dean's foot. Dean closed his eyes and began to curse under his breath. This was torture.

Finally, finally, Cas worked his way back to the top of Dean's thigh. Dean was trembling all over now, from the strain of refraining from taking matters into his own hands. His dick was so hard it was bobbing in time with his heartbeat. His balls were high and tight, and when Cas' soapy fingers reached for them, he nearly came, untouched. But somewhere Cas had learned the trick of tugging slightly, the gentle downward pull enough to briefly stave off his orgasm.

'God, Cas, where did you learn how to _do_ that?', he cried.

'Just because I was innocent, does not mean I am ignorant, Dean. You did show me how to use the internet for research purposes.'

Holy hell, what else had he researched? Dean had a feeling he was very much going to enjoy finding out. Assuming he survived, that is. 'Cas, I'm still not completely clean.'

'You are quite right, Dean. I shall remedy that immediately. Right after I take a taste.'

' _Nghh_!!' Dean threw his head back, vision greying out as Cas enveloped his dick with his mouth. After that, Dean could only register sensation, aware only of the heat, the suckling pull, the delicious friction. Helpless to prevent it, he began to thrust, and nearly cried when Cas drew his mouth away. But immediately a soapy hand took its place, sliding easily along his iron length. Unleashed, Dean thrust hard and fast, and in mere moments was yelling out and shooting his load all over Castiel's face. Seeing that made his vision go grey again, and his knees gave out. He dropped gracelessly down to join Castiel on the floor of the tub.

Cas caught Dean, and cradled him against his chest while he panted and waited for his strength to return. Cas turned his face into the still-warm spray, letting it slowly wash away Dean's come.

'Don't think I'm going to forget that,' Dean warned, his voice still weak. 'Next time, I'm going to make you beg.'

'I shall look forward to that.' Cas got to his feet and tugged Dean up after him. They stood kissing gently while the warm water sluiced over them, getting rid of the last of the soap. Eventually, remembering that Sam would be waiting on them, they drew apart and got out.

'Sit, let me look at your feet,' Dean told Cas. He knelt, no longer uncomfortable with his head being near Cas' lap, or with Cas' nakedness. After a quick look, he reached for the first aid kit, which he'd had the forethought to bring into the bathroom.

'These blisters are healing well, and the bandages will help, but you'll probably still have some pain walking around today. Especially if you wear the same shoes that gave them to you in the first place. I'd offer you a pair of mine, but I don't think they'd fit you well, and you'd just end up with blisters in new places.'

'It is alright, Dean. I will be fine.'

'We'll be as quick as we can. I'd tell you to stay here with your feet up, but you need clothes, and it's best if you're along to try them on.'

Castiel smiled at Dean's fretting, recognizing it as a sign of his love. He carded a gentle hand through Dean's hair. 'Do not worry, Dean. I will tell you if I am in difficulty.'

Suuure he would, Dean thought, but let it pass. Finished, Dean leaned up to press a quick kiss to Cas' lips, then got to his feet. He regarded Cas' bewhiskered face for a moment.

'You're getting a little scruffy-looking there, buddy. Not that I mind, but unless you're planning to grow a full beard, it's time for a shave. You can use my electric razor for now; we'll get you your own later today.'

Cas nodded, and Dean showed him how, first demonstrating by getting rid of his own day-old growth. He grinned at the fresh, glowing face that Cas turned to him when he was done. 'Looking good, Cas.' He ran his hands through Cas' damp hair, giving it in that messy, bed-head look he liked so much. 'Come on, let's get going. Sam's probably frothing at the mouth by now.'

* * *

Dean had never been fond of shopping, but never had it been as much of a trial as this! He hadn't thought it through, hadn't realized what this outing was.

This was the first time Dean and Cas had been out in public since becoming a couple; the first time Dean had been part of a couple that consisted of two men. So sue him if he wasn't always comfortable with other people noticing. But, thanks to Cas, there really wasn't much chance that they wouldn't.

Dean was accustomed to Cas being all up in his personal space, but this new development was a little disconcerting. Castiel was _handsy_. It was as though finally having permission to touch, after having to repress the urge for so long, made Cas look for every available opportunity to put his hands on Dean.

And he always went for skin-on-skin contact, lifting Dean's t-shirt out of the way to put his warm hand up against his lower back, or his side. When Dean tried to discourage that, he started tucking a hand in the back pocket of his jeans, making Dean blush because _Cas' hand was on his butt_.

Dean wasn't sure if Cas was oblivious, or doing it on purpose to fuck with him. He did know that Sam was having the time of his life. He was turning red as often as Dean, but in his case, it was more about suppressed laughter. Dean glared at his brother as Cas moved past him in the narrow store aisle, making sure that all of his front came into contact with all of Dean's back as he did so. Sam had to turn away, near to bursting with mirth.

That was it. When they got back to the bunker, Dean was going to subject Sam to some seriously hot PDA, wherever and whenever. See how much he liked watching, then!

* * *

Sam sat across from Castiel, in one of the too-small chairs commonly found bolted to food court tables. 'I wonder why Dean didn't want to join us for lunch? Since when does he forego food?' Hungry, Sam dug into his own meal.

Castiel calmly perused his food, choosing where to start. 'Dean is affected by watching me eat. I believe, as we are in a public place, he chose to absent himself rather than become a walking hard-on.'

Sam nearly sprayed salad all over the table. Dammit, he'd forgotten the new rule already! Before he could clear his throat for a proper breath, Cas continued.

'I also believe he may be using this time to visit that store we passed, the one called Erotique. It is no more than a 5 minute walk from here. Last night, Dean muttered something about needing a lot more lube.'

Damn. His brother could be a kinky bastard, chances were good that lube wasn't all he'd buy. Just how far did he plan to go in the corruption of Castiel? And would Cas be able to say no, if Dean tried something he wasn't comfortable with? Did he even know that he could? Ah hell, he was going to have to ask, wasn't he?

'Um, Cas. You know that you're allowed to refuse to do anything that doesn't feel good to you, right? Even if Dean wants to?'

Castiel gave him a pitying look. 'I am capable of making such decisions for myself, Sam, yes. I am willing to try anything Dean wants though, because I cannot know whether or not I like it until I do. For example, I was not so sure about him taking my testicle into his mouth, but I will give that one more chance, because the surprise of it coloured the experience.'

Sam's face went up in flames. 'Jesus, Cas, TMI! Also, there are kids around!' Dear god, what had made him think he could talk to Castiel about this stuff? And now he had a mental image of his brother… Ack, NO! Delete, delete, delete, delete!!

'Of course, you are right. This is not the place to be discussing such things.' Entirely unperturbed, Castiel continued to quietly eat his lunch. 'Where will we be going next?'

It took a minute for Sam's brain to re-engage, busy as it was with trying desperately _not_ to think. 'Ah, pharmacy I think. Toiletries and such.' Also, the place where condoms were sold. Sam nearly groaned. He definitely had sex on the brain, and not in the good way. How the hell was he supposed to look his brother in the eye, now that he'd surely be picturing... Argh! He was never getting that out of his head, he was cursed for eternity!!

'Does your food taste all right, Sam? You look as I imagine I did, when I tried grapefruit.'

Oh Christ, he couldn't look at Cas either. He had to get away. 'I'll, uh, be right back. I need to use the facilities.' He hurried off in the direction of the public washrooms. Maybe if he put enough cold water on his face, he could bring the blush down from neon levels to something more like sunburn. Would that he could scrub out his brain!

He wouldn't put it past Dean to have deliberately left him with Cas, knowing something like this would happen. Well, if this was revenge for the way Sam had laughed at him, too bad, because now Sam had reason to get back at Dean. He began to relax, as his brain turned away from horror and toward plotting. Yes, if he had to act normal in order to pull off a prank, that he could do. He thought about the layout of the mall, and bingo! He had just the thing. Cas had said it, himself. Perfect.

* * *

A few hours later, Dean was wearily dragging along behind Sam and Cas, hauling more bags than he could comfortably carry. 'Are we done yet?', he asked plaintively.

'Just about,' Sam replied. 'But a break sounds good.' He looked casually about, pleased that they were right where he wanted them. 'Ooh, perfect! Come on Cas, you have to try ice cream! And you've never tasted chocolate either, have you? You're gonna love this.' He steered Castiel toward the ice cream shop, looking back in time to catch the wide-eyed look of horror on his brother's face.

Dean was appalled. He couldn't watch Cas eat ice cream, _chocolate_ ice cream, in _public_! But he couldn't miss this, either, a major first for Castiel. He hissed at Sam, 'I hate you so much right now.'

Sam grinned, all innocence, 'What's the matter Dean? You like ice cream. Don't you think Cas should get a chance to try it? I bet he goes practically orgasmic.' Dean closed his eyes in pain, and Sam nearly chortled with glee. Oh, he loved to screw with his brother.

Resigned to his doom, Dean looked for a table where he could sit facing away from the room. It rankled, his Hunter's instincts wanting a good vantage point instead of leaving his back exposed, but he was more worried about exposure of a different sort.

'Aren't you having any, Dean?', Castiel asked.

'No thanks, Cas. You go ahead and enjoy, though.'

'What flavour would you recommend? There are so many, I don't know how to choose.'

'Sam's right, you should try something with chocolate in it. Pick anything you think you might like. You can always get something different next time.'

Cas took his time perusing the selection, finally settling on Black Forest Cake. Chocolate and cherries, Dean thought, how appropriate. Cas sat down opposite him, and Dean held his breath as he waited for him to take that first lick. Castiel watched Sam to see how it was done, then he dragged his tongue through the cold creamy goodness in a long swipe, just above the cone. His eyes went wide, and sure enough, he moaned with delight.

Dean gulped, and slid lower in his seat. Cas slowly devoured his sweet treat, and Dean's dick got rapidly harder. He tried to look away, but his eyes were glued to the sight of Cas' tongue, licking at the ice cream, licking at his lips, licking, _licking_. It was cool in the little shop, but Dean had broken out in a sweat.

Eventually, Cas consumed the last crunchy bit, and with one last swipe of his tongue over his lips, the torment was ended. But Dean was left with a big problem. He was half-crippled with frustrated desire, and he feared that it was embarrassingly obvious. When they got up to leave, he tried carrying his bags high, hiding behind them as best he could. But he trailed to a stop just outside the store. He couldn't go on like this, he was in pain, dammit!

Looking desperately around, Dean spotted a hallway leading to public restrooms. Thanking a god whose existence was dubious, he grabbed Cas' sleeve and pulled him in that direction. Sam hurried after them, losing his good cheer.

'Dean, seriously? You wouldn't.'

'Hey! We're like a half mile from the car, and I can barely _walk_. This is all your fault, Sammy. So guess what, laughing boy, you're standing guard.'

Sam mentally facepalmed. His plan had been going so well, up to this point. He'd barely been able to contain his laughter as he watched his brother fixate on Cas. Even knowing that his increasingly flushed face and rapid breathing meant he was sexually aroused hadn't been enough to kill the fun factor. But, now! Now he intended to molest Castiel in a bathroom stall? Dear god, what had he done?

Sam looked despairingly at Cas, intending to apologize for getting him into this mess. But Cas' eyes were twinkling, and a small smile hovered at his lips. Sam's eyes narrowed. Perhaps Castiel wasn't as clueless as they assumed him to be. Then Sam's eyes flew wide as Cas, who was a step ahead of Dean, reached back and palmed his erection. Dean stumbled, and dropped everything he was carrying.

'Jesus Christ, Cas! C'mere.' Dean grabbed Cas and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

Resigned now to his role as scout and lookout, Sam walked around the clinched couple and checked the bathroom for occupants. There were only three stalls, two regular and one handicap, and they were blessedly empty. Sam stepped out and gave the all-clear.

It was actually Castiel who dragged Dean into the bathroom, as Dean seemed not to be able to think beyond kissing Cas wildly and grabbing onto any part of him he could reach. Cas guided them into the handicap stall, and fumbled the door shut behind them. Then he reached for Dean's fly, causing Dean to moan and press eagerly into his hands.

'Shh, Dean. Try to be quiet.'

'Nnnh, need you, Cas. _Please_.'

'You have me, Dean. Just hang on a minute.' He yanked Dean's jeans partway down his thighs, and freed his rigid, dripping dick from the confines of his underwear. Dean stifled a shout, swayed, and concentrated on staying upright. Then he threw back his head and concentrated on not screaming as Cas' lips, still cool from the ice cream, closed around the head of his cock.

Cas didn't tease this time, perhaps feeling enough of that had gone on already. He went down on Dean with a passion, slurping and sucking like Dean was a far better treat than ice cream. Dean reached his breaking point in no time, spilling warmth down Cas' throat. Cas licked at Dean's softening cock, catching the last sticky drops, then gently pulled Dean's clothes back into place.

Then he surged to his feet and pushed Dean up against the cool tile wall. 'My turn,' he growled, putting Dean's hand on the erection blowing Dean had given him. Happy to oblige, Dean rubbed at the hard bulge, then reached for Cas' belt. Getting his pants open, he reached in and fisted the heated length. Cas captured his lips, and moaned gratitude into his mouth as Dean pulled and stroked.

'Quiet, Cas, remember? If that's even possible for you.' Cas gulped a breath and nodded. Dean dropped to his knees, and sucked Cas down. Cas' hips gave a little jerk, eager to thrust, but he held himself back. Having missed out on ice cream himself, Dean made up for it by licking and sucking like Cas was forty flavours of delicious. When he had Cas whimpering helplessly, he switched to a more serious technique.

Dean took pride in the strangled noises coming from Cas, despite his best efforts to suppress them. He used the sounds as a guide, repeating the moves that elicited the greatest response. When he felt Cas go rigid, he grabbed a quick breath, ready for the hot come that flooded into his mouth. He sucked and swallowed until Cas relaxed with one final, breathy little moan.

Dean helped Cas get his clothes back in order, stealing a few kisses along the way. When they were both decent, he drew back to look him in the eye. 'Thanks, Cas. You don't know how much I needed that.'

'It was my pleasure, Dean. I knew what was likely to happen when I agreed to the ice cream.'

'And you ate it anyway, you horny little devil! I haven't been giving you enough credit, Cas. You're just up for anything, aren't you?'

'At least once, to see if I like it.'

Dean laughed, delighted with him. 'Come on, let's go rub our good fortune in Sam's face.'

They exited the bathroom to find Sam standing as rigid as any palace guard, face carefully blank though his color was high. Dean clapped him on the shoulder, 'All set, Sam. Let's finish up and head home. I promised Kevin we'd bring back Chinese, from the good place.'

Not looking at either of them, Sam gathered up a number of bags, and led the way.


	4. Fucking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas get it on, trying something new to them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's pretty much all that happens in this chapter. If that does it for you, read on.

Castiel wasn't particularly hungry for dinner, but he happily sat close by Dean, and let him enjoy introducing Cas to more new tastes. Dean had tried showing Cas how to use chopsticks, but after the third slippery bit of food had gone flying, he'd laughed gently and handed him a fork. Cas had little occasion to use it, though, as Dean was getting a kick out of feeding Cas choice bits off his own plate.

'Here, Cas, try this.' Dean dipped a piece of crispy fried chicken in a virulently pink liquid. 'I think you'll like it better than the plum sauce.' He extended his chopsticks toward Castiel, and watched avidly as Castiel leaned in to take the offering. The lips he fantasized about folded around the bite of food, then sucked it free of the wooden length. Dean felt his dick pulse in empathy and barely stifled a gasp.

'Mmm, yes,' Cas approved. 'What is the name of that one?'

'Cherry sauce. It goes good on all kinds of things.' Cas seemed to have a thing for cherries. Considering that Dean was helping him lose a variety of his, that was pretty funny. Cas still had a couple of considerably big ones left, though. Dean was both looking forward to and nervous about getting to those.

Across the table, Sam chatted quietly with Kevin while doing his best to ignore the innuendo-laden interaction between his brother and his friend. He didn't want to be bothered by it, but he was still smarting after the Ice Cream Incident. Just then though, Dean glanced over at him and flashed the brightest smile. Sam felt his humiliation fade. Really, how could he resent that? Dean, happy? Cas was still performing miracles.

Dean was happy. He was enjoying good food, sitting with his safe and healthy family, and flirting with his love. Also, while the world was certainly still full of problems, it wasn't coming to an imminent end. Life, for now, was extremely good. He was still enough of a cynic to expect that that to change at any moment, but he was tired of worrying. He'd deal with whatever happened when it did, but damned if he wasn't going to eke every bit of pleasure he could from the now.

Speaking of which, warmth flushed through him as he felt Castiel's hand on his thigh. He held himself still as Cas leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

'So, Dean. When are you going to show me what you purchased at Erotique?'

Dean was suddenly no longer hungry. At least, not for food.

* * *

Dean and Castiel stood in the middle of Dean's room, shirts off, making out. They gently explored each other's mouths and bodies, without the urgency that had marked earlier encounters. Dean was feeling great affection for the man in his arms, as well as a renewed desire to make him feel as good as possible.

'Dean,' Cas murmured. 'Are you going to fuck me now?'

Dean froze, partially in surprise, and partially in shocked appreciation of the dirty hotness of that question coming out of Castiel's mouth. He drew back to look Cas in the eye, 'Are you ready to try that?'

Cas drew a deep breath. 'Yes, I want to.'

A tremor of apprehension rippled through Dean. 'You know I haven't done that before, right? If I don't do it properly, it could be painful for you.'

'I like that I would be your first in this, Dean. If others can figure out what to do, then so too can we. I trust you not to hurt me.'

Dean gulped. 'Okay, but we'll take it slow. You tell me if something doesn't feel good, and I'll stop immediately. Um,' he paused, embarrassed. 'When was the last time you...?'

'Voided my bowels? Shortly before we ate. I cleaned myself carefully afterward, just in case.' Cas blushed and looked down. 'I was hoping...'

Oh, his adventurous angel! How had Dean gotten so lucky? Dean kissed him reverently, then with increasing passion as the realization of what he was about to do sank in. He drew back before he could get too carried away, 'Let me just get what we need.' He sought out the bag holding his purchases from earlier in the day, and rummaged for condoms and lubricant.

Cas, meanwhile, divested himself of the remainder of his clothing, and got into their bed. He watched Dean set the items on the bedside table. 'Do we need the condoms?' He sounded simply curious.

'I know you're clean, Cas, but uh, I haven't been tested. And, you can catch stuff now.'

'Have you been with anyone since the last time I healed you?'

Dean flushed, thinking of the pain and terror he'd endured, as a coldly remote Castiel beat him bloody for withholding the angel tablet. He'd pleaded with the angel, pouring the love he felt into his voice, trying to break through to the part of Cas that he knew loved him in return. It had worked, Cas had once again chosen him against the commands of heaven. When the cleansing power of the angel tablet had freed Castiel from Naomi's controlling influence, he'd been appalled at his actions, immediately healing the wounds he'd inflicted.

'No,' Dean said in response to Cas' question. 'There's been no one.'

'Then you are assuredly free of any sexually transmitted disease. My healings are quite thorough.'

Dean smiled, relieved. 'That's good to know, thanks Cas. Condoms still do help to minimize mess, though. Do you want me to wear one, so I don't leave anything up in you?'

'That would not bother me, Dean. You may do whatever feels best to you.'

Dean considered it. He'd led a sexually promiscuous life, and condom use was second nature to him. He'd learned which ones fit him best, so there really wasn't much in the way of reduced sensitivity. And he was just the teensiest bit squicked at the idea of getting shit on his dick; especially now that Cas had taken a liking to sucking on it, and then kissing him.

Honestly, he'd feel better, cleaner, if he could discard the used condom afterward. He'd also read that using one would help to keep him from developing a urinary tract infection from bacteria in the rectal canal. As long as he pissed afterward to clear the urethra, the chances of him getting sick from barebacking were low, but why take unnecessary chances?

'Let's start off with the condom, and see how that goes. We can always try it the other way, another time.'

'Okay. Come to bed, Dean.'

Eager now, Dean quickly shucked the rest of his clothes and joined Castiel. Every how-to guide he'd found online suggested getting the receiving partner both relaxed and really turned on before beginning anal play. So, he wouldn't worry about that for awhile, he'd just concentrate on enjoying and pleasuring Cas.

Dean drew Castiel into his arms, and resumed kissing him the way he'd been doing it earlier, unhurried and worshipful. Castiel, who'd been a little tense, slowly melted into Dean. His awareness shrank down until he registered nothing more than the feel of Dean's lips, his tongue, his hands massaging his scalp as he ran gentle fingers through Cas' hair.

When Castiel was limp with pleasure, Dean set out to discover his erogenous zones. He ran his mouth along Cas' jawline, pausing to gently bite at the bone a couple of times. While his fingers explored the curve of an ear, Dean sucked and kissed at Cas' throat. Cas made a quiet sound of appreciation and tilted his head to give Dean better access. Ah, Dean thought, Cas has a sensitive neck - check.

Dean lingered in the area for awhile, learning what Cas liked. He got the best response when he started just under the point of the jaw, and stimulated the side of the neck with lips, teeth, and tongue, until he reached the point where the neck curved into shoulder. Right there, a gentle bite combined with strong suction caused Cas to gasp and tremble, and Dean filed that away for future reference.

Castiel also liked it when he bit and kissed along the line of his collarbone. Dean kissed his way along the shoulder and down the arm, then swirled his tongue over the thin skin at the crook of the elbow. Castiel squirmed a little, and pressed his torso toward Dean, silently pleading for more stimulation.

Dean got a hand under the shoulder Castiel had lifted from the bed, and applied pressure, urging Cas to turn over. Cas went with it, and settled onto his stomach. Dean moved over him, and starting from the top of the spine, began to nibble and lick his way downward. Again, he got a gasp and shudder when he detoured to either side, and the warm caress of his mouth passed over the area where neck met shoulder.

Dean continued that pattern, following the spine for a short way, then exploring to the side. The flesh above the shoulder blades was exquisitely sensitive, Cas couldn't help writhing under his explorations. But, Dean noticed, Castiel's back was tensing up, and he felt a pang as he realized he was stimulating the area where Cas' wings would have emerged from his vessel. Cas had to be feeling the loss, and, immediately contrite, Dean moved on.

He ran apologetic hands along Castiel's sides, in a soothing gesture, as his mouth moved to the small of Cas' back. Cas had two adorable dimples at the top of his ass, and Dean paused to admire them. In fact, he had to admire Castiel's ass, period. Tight and toned, the smooth globes presented beautiful curves that Dean couldn't resist running his hands over. He pressed reverent, massaging fingers into the large muscles, and felt Castiel relaxing again.

Figuring it was time to start easing into things, Dean reached for the lube. He'd bought the silicone-based kind, because of its extra-slippery feel, and because it would last far longer than a water-base without needing to be reapplied. Pouring a small amount onto his fingers, he rubbed them together to warm the cool gel. Then, supporting himself on one arm, he kissed and lightly bit at Castiel's ass cheeks as he worked slick fingers down into the crack.

Castiel's butt tensed as Dean found his anus, but soon relaxed as the surprise of being touched in such a sensitive area passed. He spread his legs to give Dean better access, and for several minutes Dean focused on simply touching, gently massaging all around and over the small, puckered hole. He felt the tender flesh swell under his fingers, and Cas started to push into them, making small, appreciative noises.

Dean didn't try for penetration yet, though. He didn't think Castiel was aroused enough, so he withdrew his hand and turned his attention elsewhere. He licked along the bottom crease of the ass, then kissed the along the back and inner flesh of the thighs. Cas was getting more turned on, he'd started to press his erection into the bed whenever Dean did something that felt particularly good.

Dean made his way down the legs, to the back of the knees. These, he discovered, were much more of a hot-button area for Cas than the inner flesh of the elbow had been. Pleased, Dean lingered, using his mouth on one leg while he raked blunt, teasing fingernails over the twitching flesh of the other. Now his angel started to make louder noises, sounding as though he was both protesting and approving of what Dean was doing.

Dean briefly massaged the muscles of Castiel's calves, but avoided his still-sore feet. 'Roll over, Cas,' he said, and was treated to the sight of the long length of an aroused Castiel spread out before him. Cas looked down at him with dark, hooded eyes, and Dean, as ever, got caught in the intensity of that gaze for several moments.

Remembering his mission, Dean wrenched free of the hypnotic stare and lowered his lips to Castiel's flesh once more. Cas' breathing picked up as Dean approached his groin, and his erection visibly firmed. Dean's mouth watered for a taste, but he contented himself with lavishing appreciation over the beautiful bones of Cas' hips.

'Dean,' Castiel huffed in annoyance, raising his hips to try to get Dean to pause in between, as Dean switched from one side to the other. But Dean just grinned and ignored the offering. Instead, he crawled forward to take that pouting mouth, kissing Castiel until he forgot his pique in the tide of rising passion.

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's back, and tried to draw the larger man down to cover his needy body. Dean allowed it, lowering himself until they touched all along their fronts. Both men groaned as their erections were pressed between their bodies, the relief momentary as the craving for more quickly grew. They rutted against each other as their kissing grew more desperate, until Dean drew back, gasping.

Castiel whimpered as Dean drew his body away, feeling cold and bereft without that warm, hard flesh pressing him into the bed. Dean lavished attention on his sensitive neck again, and Castiel moaned and writhed, hands tugging at Dean's sides to bring him back down to him. This time, Dean resisted, instead moving lower to brush warm lips over one of Castiel's nipples. Already aroused, Cas gasped and bucked at the shock of sensation.

Dean nibbled, licked, and sucked contentedly, fingers plucking at the other nipple, while beneath him Castiel twisted and moaned and gasped for air. Just when Cas thought he could take no more, Dean switched sides, and he wailed at the increase in pleasure. He was thrusting into empty air now, and Dean reached a hand to his hip, and pressed down to indicate that he should keep still. Cas shuddered, grasped at his tattered control and did his best to obey.

Dean drew back and studied the man beneath him. Castiel was panting and sweating, his pupils were blown, his mouth was red and swollen, and his dark hair was gorgeously mussed. Dean took a mental picture, he wanted to remember Cas just like this. God, he was beautiful.

'Ready for more?', he asked, nearly hoarse with the effort it took to hold back, his own needs clamoring to be met. Cas nodded, and he reached for the lube again. Settling between Castiel's spread legs, he slicked up his fingers again and returned to caressing and massaging the puffy ring. Castiel slowly settled, the urgency Dean had incited in him backing off.

When the tension eased out of Castiel's legs, Dean lowered himself and did two things simultaneously: he pressed one finger very gently into Cas, and pressed his open mouth to the base of Castiel's dick. Castiel gasped and tensed up, and Dean froze in place.

'Easy, Cas. You gotta stay relaxed, okay?'

'Of course, yes. I was merely surprised.' He blew out a breath, and concentrated on releasing the tension in his body. 

Feeling the tightness around his finger ease, Dean pressed it forward again, as far as the second knuckle. He stopped there, and checked in with his partner. 'How does that feel? Any pain?'

'It is an odd sensation, but you are not hurting me.'

'I'm going to have to stretch the opening, that may be a little uncomfortable. Tell me immediately if you need me to stop, okay?'

'Yes, Dean. Please proceed.'

Dean continued to be cautious. He moved his finger around just inside Cas, letting him get used to the intrusion. He returned his mouth to Cas' cock, to provide countering pleasure against any discomfort. As he began to slowly lick his way up Castiel's dick, he withdrew his finger, then slowly pressed two back in.

Castiel breathed deeply, but didn't seem to be in distress, so Dean pressed his fingers further in. He turned his hand back and forth, feeling around inside, while he lapped the little pool of precome off Cas' stomach. With his palm facing up, Dean crooked his fingers and made come-hither motions, looking for that special spot. It was easy to tell when he found it. He'd just opened his mouth to envelop the head of Castiel's cock when Cas shouted out and thrust high.

Dean managed to take the sudden mouthful without grazing Cas with his teeth, but it was a near thing. He sucked his way off the hard length, then smiled up at Cas. 'Looks like we found your prostate.'

'Find it again!'

Dean snorted a laugh at Castiel's astounded but eager tone. He made the beckoning motion again, and Cas pushed his head back into the pillow with a cry. More pearly drops of precome appeared at the end of Cas' dick. Dean spread his fingers inside Castiel, increasing the stretch. He worked the fingers in and out, happy that they were moving easily and Cas hadn't tensed up.

'Can you take more?', he asked, withdrawing his hand to apply more lube.

'Yes, Dean. Please!'

Slowly and gently, Dean worked three fingers into Castiel. Cas gasped a little when he scissored them wide and Dean paused, but Cas pushed his butt toward him, silently indicating that he should continue. Dean lapped teasingly at Cas' cock, and brushed up against his prostate a few more times as his fingers worked him open.

'Enough, Dean!', Castiel panted, trembling with the need to come. 'Fuck me, _now_.'

Dean shuddered with lust at being commanded, the sexiness of the order increased by being uttered in Castiel's sinfully deep voice. That voice had become an increasing problem for Dean, the resonant timbre causing sympathetic vibrations throughout his body; listening to Castiel talk for too long left him lit up like a Christmas tree.

Dean withdrew his fingers, and Castiel moaned, feeling empty without the pressure he'd grown used to. Dean grabbed a condom, and quickly rolled it on. It was already lubricated, but Dean slathered more on, figuring better too much than not enough. Then, taking himself in hand, he lined up his cock with Castiel's hole. He looked up, meeting Castiel's eyes.

'Ready?'

Castiel smiled, touched that Dean was being so careful with him. He sat up, took Dean's head in his hands, and kissed him gently and thoroughly. Then he lay back down, and made a go-ahead gesture. 'Ready.'

With love blooming in his chest, Dean began to press himself into Castiel. There was a brief resistence, then the head of his cock got past the first ring of muscle. Dean halted with a gasp, Castiel was so tight! He tightened his grip around the base of his dick, desperate not to come too soon. Sweat breaking out all over his body, he pressed forward another inch, then paused, shaking.

'Doing okay, Cas?', he panted. 

'I am fine, Dean. You feel very big, but I can take it.'

Dean groaned, incredibly turned on by hearing Cas say his dick was big. But at the same time he was reminded that Cas' hole was a virgin one, and big as he was, if he was too rough, he'd hurt his beloved. Keeping an iron grip on his control, he eased forward another inch. He maintained incredibly intimate eye contact with Castiel, keeping a careful watch for any signs of unadmitted pain.

Dean pulled back a little, and thrust forward again slowly, repeating the action and gradually working his way in deeper. He wasn't aware of his own moans, as he reacted to the incredible heat and friction of Castiel's gripping walls. Finally, Dean bottomed out, and stopped again, giving Castiel time to adjust.

After a few moments, Castiel squirmed, then bucked a little. 'Please, Dean. Move.'

Dean slowly pulled back. 'God, Cas. You're so tight!', he moaned. 'I don't know how long I can last.' He pushed in again, equally slow. He could feel the tingling in the muscles of his abdomen, the precursor to the seizure of orgasm. Helpless to stop himself, he began to  thrust a little faster, a little harder.

Realizing that he wasn't hitting Cas' prostate, he leaned back and lifted Castiel's legs to wrap around his hips. This changed the angle, and he experimented with the tilt of his own hips until, on the next thrust, Castiel tightened around him with a howl. He thrust again, and again, and Castiel was moaning and sobbing out his name, and Dean was rushing toward orgasm.

Dean reached forward and gripped Castiel's dripping cock, making him choke on a gasp. Dean stroked him off in time with his now barely controlled thrusts, and Castiel reached his limit. The next time Dean struck his prostate, Castiel exploded, yelling wordlessly as he pumped come all over his chest. He tightened almost viciously around Dean, who gasped and managed only a couple more stuttering thrusts before he came so hard he saw stars.

Strength rapidly draining, Dean shakily lowered Cas' legs to the bed and carefully pulled his softening cock free from his body. He removed the condom, pleased to note that it didn't seem dirty, and discarded it in the trash can next to the bed. Then he crawled forward to collapse at Castiel's side, throwing an arm over the sticky, still-heaving chest. 'Wow, Cas, that was awesome. Was it good for you?'

Cas blinked at him sleepily, then actually smirked. 'Need you ask?'

Dean laughed, thrilled and relieved and sure that Castiel was the most brilliant, wonderful being who'd ever lived. 'God, I love you.'

Castiel's eyes flew wide and he sucked in a shocked breath. 'W-what?'

Dean, realizing what he'd said, froze for a second. He'd never been comfortable with expressing his emotions, but looking into Cas' drowning blue eyes, he realized that he wanted Cas to know how he felt. That, if anyone deserved to know he was loved, it was Castiel.

'I love you, Cas. I have for a long time now.'

'Dean,' Castiel breathed in wonder. 'I love you too!'

Feeling the way bliss exploded through his soul at those words, Dean was sorry he'd withheld them from Cas for so long. Dean pulled Castiel to him, and held him close, not caring in the least that he was smearing Castiel's emissions all over both their chests. He kissed Cas with aching tenderness, and when he pulled back, there were tears swimming in Castiel's eyes, making the blue even more luminous.

'Oh hey, Cas, man, don't cry.' Now he was getting uncomfortable.

Castiel sniffled, and smiled. 'I believe these are termed happy tears, Dean. You have made me _very_ happy.'

'You make me very happy too, Cas. I'm so glad you're here, with me.' Dean got caught in Castiel's adoring gaze then, for a timeless period. When he gradually regained the ability to think, he realized that Cas might be a little sore from their unaccustomed activities. Besides, the come that had dried between them was starting to itch.

'Want to take a bath with me, Cas?'

Castiel blinked, resurfacing from the depths of Dean's eyes. 'That sounds nice.'

Dean reluctantly pulled away from Castiel, loathe to leave the loving embrace. But they could cuddle up again in the bath, not that he'd ever admit that was what he was wanting to do. Rummaging through his bags again, he found the large jar of Epsom salts he'd bought for their soothing, healing properties, and took it into the bathroom. He started water running into the large tub, and shook a generous measure of the salt into the water. He only realized he'd gotten scented salts when the smell of lavender immediately rose into the air.

Castiel had followed him into the room, and was now sniffing appreciatively. 'That smells lovely, Dean. Is that...?'

'Lavender, yeah.' Oh well, at least it wasn't roses or lilies or anything even more girly. Hopefully most of the scent would wear off by morning. He stepped into the tub and swished his feet around to help dissolve the crystals. Then he settled into the water, lay back, and opened his legs. 'Come on in, Cas.'

Castiel stepped into the water and, following Dean's directions, sat with his back to Dean. Dean splashed some water over his chest, cleaning away the dried come, then pulled Castiel back to rest against him. He gently trailed warm water over Castiel's chest, cleaning him up too. When the water had risen high enough, he had Castiel lean forward and turn off the taps.

Sighing with pleasure, Castiel leaned back into Dean, sliding down and floating a bit so that he could tuck his head under Dean's chin. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's shoulders and rested his cheek on the top of his head. There, with his angel resting against his heart, he found a deeper contentment than he had ever known.


	5. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel are forced to spend some time apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so they wake up the next morning. What might be happening in the world? How might their day go? This is what my imagination came up with...
> 
> Yes, I'm diverging wildly from canon, but I've been doing that all along. Let's face it, having started this before Season 9 began, that train was off the rails from the get-go. Besides, I'm just writing to amuse myself, so really, what difference does it make? :)

Dean woke up in Heaven. A second later, he realized he felt so unbelievably good not because he was in Heaven, but because his dick was. Opening his eyes, he cast an incredulous look downward, but sight only confirmed what his other senses had been telling him. 

Dean was lying on his side, and Castiel had his face buried in his crotch. Dean was mostly exposed, blankets pushed down around Cas' waist. Cas had a finger and thumb wrapped around the base of Dean's dick, tilting it down toward Cas' upturned face. The rest of Dean's dick had disappeared into his wide-open mouth. Cas had his uppermost arm wrapped around Dean's thighs for support, and the look on his face was one of intense concentration. Dear god, was he _practicing?_

Dean held himself as still as possible, fascinated. Cas seemed unaware that he was being watched, focused solely on his task. He was holding Dean as deep as he could take him, well past what Dean would have thought he could manage, remaining still and taking small sips of air through his nose. Suddenly, Dean felt himself slip deeper, but then Cas' throat closed around him, and Cas abruptly pulled back, choking.

Cas rode out his body's objection to having an obstructed airway, eyes closed and excess saliva drooling down onto Dean's dick. When the worst had passed, he closed his lips around the head of Dean's cock, and slowly, slowly slid his mouth back down the shaft. Dean couldn't help but hold his breath as he felt himself press into the top of Cas' throat.

Cas paused again, taking small, measured breaths, working on staying relaxed. Then Dean felt Cas somehow open his throat more, like when you yawn, he realized. Cas pressed forward, and Dean's cock slid down into his throat. He froze then, nose nearly close enough to be tickled by Dean's pubic hair. Neither of them were breathing at this point, and Dean's lungs were burning for air.

Castiel couldn't hold the position for long, but he kept control, pulling back without gagging. As his warm lips pulled up along Dean's rigid shaft, Dean groaned and gasped for air, losing his fight to maintain a pretense of sleep.

Castiel rolled those impossibly blue eyes up to meet his, and Dean grinned down at his intrepid lover. 'Morning, Cas. Whatcha doin' there?'

Cas' eyes rolled further, then he slid back down until he had a reasonable mouthful, and just _sucked_. Dean gasped out a lust-filled laugh at Cas' non-verbal sarcasm. Who knew the taciturn Castiel would be so much fun in bed? He reached a hand down, burying his fingers in Cas' hair, no longer able to resist touching him.

Pleased by the contact, Cas hummed appreciation, sending an incredible wave of pleasure through Dean's body. 'Cas!', he shouted, hips jerking forward involuntarily. He stilled himself immediately, panting and beginning to tremble with strain. He could feel his balls tightening, drawing closer to his body as his orgasm neared.

Though caught by surprise at Dean's sudden movement, Castiel had managed Dean's thrust, and was intrigued by the strength of Dean's reaction. Wrapping his hand around the base of Dean's dick for better control, he experimentally hummed again. Dean made a gasping noise that was almost a sob, and his upper body arched in a taut bow. His trembling increased, and Castiel tasted a salty spurt of pre-come.

Hand tightened to a fist in Cas' hair, Dean fought not to go off. He was really enjoying being Castiel's test subject and wanted to see what else he'd try, but everything Cas was doing just felt so damn good. And he must have been busy for awhile before Dean became aware of it, for he was already hovering on the verge of orgasm; it wouldn't take much to tip him over.

As it turned out, the next thing Cas tried was a combination move - he deep-throated Dean, and then hummed. Dean's system was completely overwhelmed; he threw back his head and keened his pleasure as he came. Cas had rapidly pulled his mouth away when Dean started to come, but a warm hand stroked him gently through the spasms.

Dean rolled over onto his back, limp in the aftermath of an excellent orgasm. He felt sleep pulling him back down, but resisted, knowing that Cas would like a little reciprocation. He welcomed Cas into his arms as his angel moved up to lie beside him, pressing his hot, heavy erection into Dean's hip.

'Gotta say, Cas, that was one hell of a great way to wake up. Were you trying something else you looked up online?'

'Yes, Dean. It is more difficult than it looks. I did not expect to have to work against the wishes of my own body, in order to accommodate yours.'

Dean frowned a little at that, 'I don't want you to hurt yourself trying to please me, Cas.'

'It was getting easier, I think it is just a matter of learning how to do it properly. I will need to practice.'

Dean grinned, entirely on board with that idea. 'Anytime you want, Cas. Now, how about I give you a proper morning hello.' With that, Dean tugged Castiel on top of him, and captured the lips that had given him so much pleasure with his own. Cas moaned into the kiss, and ground his hips down, seeking friction.

Dean worked a hand between them, and wrapped it around Castiel's heated length. Cas whimpered and thrust into Dean's fist, shuddering with desperate need. Dean pulled and stroked, his hand quickly picking up slickness from the pre-come that was drooling from Cas' dick. Castiel's head lolled back, then he pressed his face into Dean's neck, gasping.

'You were really getting off on blowing me, weren't you, Cas? I've barely touched you, and you're right there.' Cas nodded, making choked little cries. 'Let me hear you, Cas,' Dean encouraged. 'You know what it does to me, how much it fuckin' turns me on.' He sped his motions, feeling his lover go tense above him.

Just then there was a loud knock, and Sam was yelling through the heavy door, 'Wake up, Dean! We've got a case.'

Surprised, Dean's grip tightened, and Castiel _wailed_ as he came. There was a moment of embarrassed silence from the other side of the door, then, 'Oh, geez. Sorry! Um, just, come out when you're ready.' Sam beat a hasty retreat, face burning.

Dean snorted with laughter, he was going to be able to use that to make his brother blush all day. Brimming with good humor, he cradled the still panting Castiel, pressing a kiss to his sweaty temple. 'My brother has brilliantly bad timing. Not embarrassed, are you love?'

Castiel sighed, relaxing into his embrace. 'No. I am not ashamed of what we were doing. If Sam is bothered by it, he should not have interrupted.'

Dean hugged him proudly, 'Got that right. I wonder what he thought was so important that it couldn't wait until we got up?'

'Perhaps we should go and find out.'

Dean sighed, knowing their brief holiday was over. It had, of course, been too good to last. 'Yeah, guess so.'

* * *

Dean and Cas got breakfast, then joined Sam at the table. Red stained Sam's cheekbones when they came into the room, but he did his best to act like everything was normal. Dean, of course, just had to get a dig in.

'So, Sam. What was so all-fired important that it couldn't wait until a _decent_ hour?'

Stung, Sam rose to the bait, 'Not my fault if you two are going to be indecent at all hours.'  Dean grinned a 'gotcha' at him, and Sam huffed in annoyance. 'The reason I came for you is this clip from the morning news.' He turned his laptop, and played the segment for them.

The announcer spoke, 'Last night's coordinated raid of several crack houses took a bizarre turn. Despite long-term observation, when entry was made, no drugs were discovered. Instead, in each residence was found evidence of gruesome murders.' The camera cut to a shot of a rookie cop losing his dinner in the bushes outside a run-down home.

'Only a single suspect was taken into custody at each site, the houses otherwise empty. They've been taken in for questioning, and forensic teams are gathering evidence against them. Stay tuned for further developments.'

Dean frowned as Sam stopped the playback, 'What makes you think this is one of ours?'

'Oh, I don't know. Crack houses with no drugs? Grisly remains found instead of strung-out junkies? These places were under police observation, Dean, for awhile. Yet when the cops went in, they were caught completely by surprise by what they found. Something changed, quickly and quietly.'

'Yeah, okay, that is pretty suspicious. Where did this happen?'

'Minneapolis.'

'Fuck, it's gonna take all day just to get there!'

'What? You like to drive.'

Dean looked helplessly at Castiel, not wanting to admit that the reason for his dismay was that it would mean being separated from him, for a minimum of two days. Cas couldn't come with them, it wasn't safe. He was too new to being human, too vulnerable. Even worse, Castiel still had the instincts of a warrior. He was accustomed to being nigh-invulnerable, and super-strong. In a fight, his reactions would be all wrong, and he'd get hurt or worse. Not to mention, there were angels running around all over the place these days, and who knew how they'd react if they saw Castiel? No, there was no way they were risking it. Cas was staying here.

Sam was too keen to be on the road and out of the bunker to notice where Dean's attention had gone. 'Eat up, daylight's a-wasting.'

* * *

After a hasty meal, Dean drew Castiel back to his room. Solemnly, he took Castiel by the shoulders, his own tense with the expectation of their first argument. 'I'm sorry, but you can't come with us, Cas.'

'I did not expect to accompany you, Dean.'

Caught off guard, Dean let his arms drop back to his sides. 'You didn't?'

'I am not trained to hunt as a human. I would only be in the way.'

'Oh, Cas.' Dean pulled him into a hug. 'I like it when you're in my way. But it's true that you need retraining, to learn how to work with your human body, before you can be an effective Hunter. We'll start in on that, as soon as I get back.'

Dean stepped back from Castiel, 'But you can still help, in the meantime.' After a quick search, he found the paint pens he'd purchased, and handed them to Castiel. 'Here, take these. Kevin should be up soon. If you two work together, you can get this place warded against angels by the end of the day.'

'Yes, I suppose that is now a necessary precaution,' Castiel said sadly.

'We're gonna work on reversing that spell too, Cas. Get everybody back where they belong, get you your mojo back. It just might take some time.'

'I hope you are right.'

'Course I am. But for now, one day at a time, eh? Come over here, I have something else to show you before I leave.'

* * *

'Come on, Dean,' Sam whined impatiently. He was hovering in the open passenger-side doorway of the Impala, ready to get in and go. His brother, however, seemed inclined to stand around all day, sucking face with Castiel. 'You can find his tonsils when we get back.'

'Shut up, Sam. You're just jealous.' Dean reluctantly pulled away from Castiel, though he held eye contact for a few long, wordless moments, just like old times. 'Be back soon,' he promised his angel.

Castiel gazed back solemnly, 'Be careful. Come home safe. I love you.'

Dean's smile broke over his face like the sun breaking through clouds. 'I will. Love you too.' He looked over at Sam, who was staring at them, gape-mouthed. 'What?'

'Dammit', Sam muttered. 'I owe Kevin 20 bucks.'

* * *

Dean enjoyed the drive at first. He was still riding high on the endorphins from the grand way the day had begun. By mid-afternoon, though, his mood had soured. He missed Castiel, his absence a low-level ache he could do nothing to alleviate. He was having to fight an increasing urge to turn around and hurry back to his side.　

Sam, on the other hand, was looking more relaxed and happy with every mile. He couldn't wait to get to their destination, dig into the facts of the case, get his teeth into a new puzzle. He hadn't felt this good, this strong and free, since before he started the trials. In fact, he felt down-right mischievous. He cast a grin at his brother, 'So, you and Cas, huh?'

Dean glanced back, his expression wary. 'Yeah, what of it?'

Sam's grin widened. 'You _luuuurv_ him.' Then he chuckled as Dean helplessly blushed.

'Yes, okay? Geez, don't make a big deal of it.' Dean kept his eyes firmly on the road, and fought not to squirm with embarrassment.

'When the mighty my-heart-is-my-own, love-em-and-leave-em Dean Winchester has taken the big fall? Dude. That's a huge deal!'

'Only if you _make_ it one,' Dean gritted out, hands tight on the steering wheel.

'So, who said it first?' Dean said nothing, but his blush intensified. ' _You?_  Wow, you really do have it bad, don't you? Man, I never would have pegged you for the mushy, romantic type. Or was the reason you always objected so much to so-called chick-flick moments because you were overcompensating in that area, too?'

'Sam, I swear, if you don't shut up...'

'Really, Dean. I'm seeing you in a whole new light. All those times you called me girly, huh. I think maybe you were actually expressing envy. You've just been trapped in a stereotypical macho persona that wouldn't let you express your feelings the way you would have liked.'

'I'm gonna express my feelings with my fists, in a moment.'

'Oh, you can't fool me, not anymore. Castiel has shown me the light! Dean Winchester is a closet romantic!'

'Oh my god. I'm pulling over. You're walking the rest of the way to Minneapolis.'

'Okay, okay,' Sam capitulated with a laugh. 'I'll stop. Seriously, though. I think it's great, the way you are with Cas. Really sweet, you know?'

Dean sighed, unable to hold onto his pique while thinking about Castiel. 'Everything's different with him. Stuff I'd have sworn I'd go up in flames rather than say, doesn't feel weird if I'm saying it to him. And the way it lights him up, god. I feel 10 feet tall.'

'I don't think he's ever been loved before. Not for himself, alone.'

Dean's brow furrowed with worry, 'You think that's all it is?'

Sam barked out a laugh, 'Are you kidding me? He's been crushing on you for ages; in retrospect, it's dead obvious. And we're talking way before you ever showed any affection towards him. If he lights up, it's because his affections are being _returned_.' 

'Oh man, I was pretty shitty to him a lot of the time, wasn't I? And even when I was trying to be nice, I was doing stuff like throwing him to the hooker-shaped wolves. Poor guy! I've got a lot to make up for.'

'I'm sure you'll have fun trying.' Sam decided not to mention the way Dean had lit up, when Castiel said he loved him. He could use that to tease Dean, another day.

* * *

It was early evening before they reached the police precinct, but they didn't want to wait for the next day to begin their investigation. Flashing their FBI badges got them an interview with two of the suspects that had been discovered in the otherwise empty crack houses. Unfortunately, neither provided them with any real clues.

'Let me get this straight,' Dean said in an exasperated tone. 'You have no memory of how you came to be in that house, no idea why you were there when the police burst in. The last thing you remember is being on the street, looking for your regular dealer. Like, three days ago.'

The guy chained to the metal table nodded miserably, 'You gotta believe me, man. They're trying to pin me for _murder_. It's total bullshit, I wouldn't _do_ that! I'm not above a little snatch-and-grab, when I'm jonesing real bad, you know? But I'd never hurt anybody!'

Dean leaned back in the hard metal chair, frowning. This was pretty much the same story the first suspect had given. Either an organized group had planned for anyone captured to quote this party line, or these were individuals telling a common truth.

They had the man returned to his cell, then got a police escort out to one of the crime scenes. The forensic teams had finished with the rest of the place, but Sam and Dean were told that they would not be allowed to enter the room where human remains had been found. The reason why was evident from the heavy scent of decomp that struck them as soon as they opened the door.

The officer that had accompanied them into the house grimly led the way to a small bathroom, just off the kitchen. He indicated the closed door, 'I hope you have strong stomachs. It's not pretty, in there.'

Dean exchanged a look with Sam, then reached out a gloved hand to swing open the door. They'd seen the crime-scene photos, but the horror inside still came as a punch to the gut. A wave of putrid scent rolled over them as they took in the grisly sight. Toilet, sink, mirror, walls - every surface was splattered in gore, from floor to ceiling.

'God,' Dean muttered, 'how'd they fit the wood chipper in there?' It really did look as though someone had sprayed the room with blood, and thicker things. Small, obscene chunks that he really didn't care to identify were stuck in the dried, reddish-brown substance coating everything.

'The medical examiner has confirmed that it is human blood and tissue all over everything,' the cop said. 'He estimates from the amount of erm, residue, that it would have taken as many as five or six bodies to have done this.'

'I don't suppose he has any theories on how it was done?', Sam asked, taking careful, shallow breaths through his mouth.

'Given that he was overheard repeatedly muttering WTF under his breath, I'd say not. Something else we haven't been able to explain is how the murderer was able to exit the room without tracking any of - that - along with him. Not so much as a drop of blood was found beyond the bathroom threshold.'

That, more than anything they'd seen so far, cemented their suspicions of supernatural involvement. A quick search of the rest of the house turned up nothing of interest, so they thanked the officer and took their leave.

By mutual agreement, they sought out a motel before food. They did have strong stomachs, given all they'd seen in their years of hunting, but they both wanted to shower off the stench. Soon enough, though, they were sitting in a diner, discussing the case.

'Nothing human could have gotten out of that room, without leaving a trace,' Sam mused. 'The place was awash in blood, it had to be all over whoever did the killing.'

'Cas used to be able to pop in and out, but the angels on earth now have all had their wings burned off. They're not teleporting anyplace. Demons?'

'No evidence of sulfur, but it's possible. Don't know what their motivation would be though. More likely it's something else, maybe something we haven't run across before. We can get Kevin and Cas to search the Men of Letters archives, while we look into it from here.'

'Great,' Dean sighed. Research was not his favorite part of hunting. He wondered how Castiel had spent his day. 'Do you think Cas and Kevin are getting along okay? Cas kinda read him the riot act over the whole prophet thing, just before The Fall.'

'Cas got screwed over trying to do the right thing, and Kevin is aware of that. He knows what it's like to get jerked around, and he's a good kid. I'm sure he's willing to give Cas a chance.'

'I hope so. I feel kinda bad for leaving Cas alone so soon. He's adapting really well, but being human is still new to him.'

'Oh, please. Cas is doing fine. You just miss him, because you luuurv him.'

'Don't start that again!'

Privately, though, Dean spent the rest of the meal thinking about Castiel, and yes, missing him. When they got back to the motel, instead of going in, Sam demanded the car keys.

'I'm going out for awhile, an hour at least. Call Castiel and teach him about phone sex, because you are rocking epic levels of ants-in-the-pants, and it's making me twitchy.'

Dean would have protested, but that actually sounded like a pretty good idea.

'I'll call Kevin, fill him in. Call me when you're done talking to Cas, and we'll compare notes.'

'Sure, Sammy. See ya later.'

* * *

'Cas?'

' _Dean_ ,' Castiel replied, and Dean marveled at how much meaning he could pack into the single syllable of his name. He'd heard relief, love, longing, and frustration. Dean felt a rush of warmth; Cas had been missing him, too.

'It's good to hear your voice. I missed you today. I don't like being so far away.'

'The situation is far from ideal.'

Dean grinned, loving the way Castiel put things. He even had Sam beat in the fancy-talk department.

'I have some questions for you, regarding the case, if you're up for it?'

'I wish to help, Dean. What would you like to know?'

Dean quickly filled him in on the events of the day, then asked, 'Do you know of anything that could cause that kind of damage?'

'Unfortunately, yes. I have heard of such happening, though normally much care is taken to avoid it.'

'Really? Avoid what?'

'Attempting to inhabit a vessel that is of insufficient strength to contain an angel's grace.'

'Uh oh, I think I see where you're going with this. What happens if you do?'

'The vessel ruptures.'

'Ew. By rupture, do you mean paint the walls with gore?'

'I fear so, yes. When containment fails, it is abrupt and total.'

Dean sighed. 'Well, that would explain it. Although there was way too much splattered around that room to have come from the failure of a single vessel.'

'You say the ones taken into custody have no memory of how they came to be there?'

'That's right.'

'And many come to these establishments, looking for illicit substances?'

'The police observed a large number of people coming and going.'

'I believe I understand. This is not good, Dean.'

'What? What's going on, Cas?'

'You recall the night of The Fall, the angels that you could see burning?'

'I'm never gonna to be able to forget, believe me.'

'Those were only a fraction of the angelic host, the ones that already had vessels. Many of my brothers and sisters are trapped in an in-between state, unable to manifest on this plane without causing massive destruction.'

'Yeah, I remember what it was like when you first tried to talk to me. A mere whisper, and you blew out windows and damned near deafened me. I'm just glad you tried to get me to hear you rather than see you; I'd hate for you to have burned out my eyes.'

'As would I. You have very beautiful eyes, Dean.'

Dean was glad Castiel couldn't see him blush. 'You're the one with the pretty eyes, Cas.'

Castiel cleared his throat, not entirely sure how to deal with the compliment. 'Be that as it may, I believe what has been happening is that my brethren are seeking out vessels.'

'Don't you guys usually pick and choose pretty carefully, taking bloodlines and such into account?'

'Yes, it is an exacting process. Not only must the vessel be physically capable of bearing the might of the angel, but he or she must also agree to act as host.'

'The whole consent thing, sure. Thank god for that, or Sam and I would have ended up as angel condoms on day one.'

'As you are aware from Lucifer's attempts to persuade Sam, consent need only be given. It need not be informed, and it may also be won through coercion.'

'You think they're _forcing_ themselves on people?'

'I think that the hungry, homeless, and drug addicted are inclined to say yes to any offer that promises them what they want.'

'Come here, little girl, I have candy. All you have to do is say yes, and it's all yours?'

'They are not interested in children, Dean.'

'I know, I just meant... Never mind. Holy crap, Cas. If angels are taking any old vessel that comes along, how often are 'ruptures' likely to occur?'

'It would depend on the power level of the angels involved, but even assuming the lowliest of our ranks, you would be looking at perhaps one in fifty.'

'So if each of these crack houses has a room where multiple containment failures have occurred, we're talking about hundreds of successful possessions. Wow. Where are they all going, afterward?'

'I do not know, Dean. This is clearly a cooperative effort, taking place in a number of locations. Someone must be in charge.'

'Who presumably has plans for the new recruits. Shit. What about the amnesia victims?'

'Scapegoats. They would have been hosts also, were likely the ones running the houses while they were in operation. Once the police were at the door, no doubt the vessels were abandoned, left to take the blame for the apparent murders.'

'Damn, that's cold. Poor bastards.'

'Yes.' Alarm bells rang for Dean. Castiel sounded awful, depressed and guilty.

'Don't do that, Cas! Don't take on responsibility for what these guys are doing. This is _not_ your fault!'

'I am complicit, Dean. I aided Metatron, he may not have succeeded without me.'

'Or he might just have found some other poor dupe to string along. You couldn't have known, Cas. He's a master storyteller, he can twist lies around until they look like truths.'

'You suspected him.'

'He felt off to me, but that was just a gut instinct, born of a lifetime of hunting. You could say that makes me more guilty than you, since I had some inkling, however vague, that he was hinky, but I went along with his plans anyway. I was right there in that bar with you, waiting on Cupid, remember?'

'Yes, I was glad of your company.'

'We did the best we could with the information we had at the time. It's all you can ever do, and the only thing trying to rewrite the past will get you is a one-way ticket to crazytown. Okay, mistakes were made. So, we act like adults, and do our best to rectify the situation. That's what we're doing. We're at the information-gathering stage now, and when we know enough, we'll choose a course of action. Can you live with that?'

'That is a surprisingly mature attitude, Dean.'

'Hah, that's me. All grown up.'

'You are right, of course. Self-castigation accomplishes nothing, we must look forward.'

'Atta boy, Cas. Okay, enough shop talk. We'll take up the quest again in the morning, for now, let's have a little fun together.'

'How can we do anything together, separated as we are?'

'Okay, Cas, teachable moment here. You're going to listen to my voice, and you're gonna do everything I tell you to do. Nothing more, nothing less. Got it?'

There was a little in-hitch of breath, then Castiel responded with a 'Yes, Dean' that held so much eagerness it made Dean's breath catch in his throat. Whoa, could it be he'd stumbled upon one of Cas' kinks? Angels liked to be ordered around, right? It made sense that something like that would carry over. Hoo, he hoped that's what it was, because damn, he could have some _fun_ with that!

'Tell me where you are. Are you alone?'

'Yes, I am alone in your room, sitting on the bed.'

'Good. I want you to take off all your clothes, put the pillows against the headboard, then sit leaning back against them.' Dean quickly did the same, freeing his already hard cock from the confines of his jeans with a sigh of relief. When he once again heard breathing on the line, he continued, 'Put me on speaker, and place the phone on the bed next to you.'

'Very well, I have done so.'

'Hmm, I'm picturing you in my mind. I'm sitting on my motel bed, naked, just like you. I wish I could be there with you, I want to touch you. I've been getting boners all day, every time I thought of you, every time I remembered what we did this morning, and last night. Are you hard, Cas?'

'Yes, Dean,' Castiel said in a voice that was noticeably harsher.

'Tell me, Cas. Did you play with the toy I gave you this morning?'

'I did. I am using it now.'

Dean inhaled sharply. 'How does it feel?'

'I have become accustomed to it now. I was very conscious of its presence at first, though.'

'How long has it been in?'

'A few hours this morning, and again since dinner. I had to forego its use this afternoon, as it was interfering with my ability to concentrate. I did not wish to make any mistakes in drawing the warding sigils.'

'You found it stimulating, then?'

'It proved a strong reminder of our activity last night. I became quite... frustrated. I believe I owe Kevin an apology, I was quite curt with him.'

Dean couldn't help chuckling at the picture Cas was painting. 'You snapped at Kevin because you were sexually frustrated?'

'I believe that is what I just said.'

'And how did you cope with this frustration? Did you get yourself off?'

'You are referring to masturbation, yes? That is not something I have tried as yet.'

'Damn, Cas. I know I said your dick was mine, but when I'm not around, you can yank it all you want. You don't have to suffer blue balls.'

'Ah. I was uncertain of the protocol, within the bounds of a relationship. I admit to being greatly tempted, despite never having tried to reach completion on my own. Now that you have shown me how good it is possible to feel, my body has begun to make strong demands for more.'

Dean had to reach down and grip his dick, his own body making some serious demands as he pictured a painfully aroused Castiel valiantly trying to go about his day. 'Well then, we need to teach you how it's done, pronto. It goes better with lube, do you have some within reach?'

'Yes.'

'And the remote, do you have that too?'

'Yes, but I thought you did not wish me to use that?'

'I didn't want you using it without me. I'd rather be there to see your reaction in person, but I'll have to settle for hearing it. But we'll get to that. For now, just pour some lube into your hand, then reach down and smooth it over your dick.' Dean could tell when he'd done so, from the audible hiss as cool gel met hot flesh. 'How does that feel, Cas?'

'G-good. It feels good.'

'Give me more, Cas. How does your dick feel, in your hand?'

'It's hard. Smooth. Hot.' Dean hummed encouragement. 'Haaah, your voice. Makes it pulse.'

Dean's abdominal muscles tightened, hips curling up to push his dick into his hand. 'God, Cas. You're sexy without even trying. I can't keep my hand away from my cock, listening to you. I'm stroking myself, Cas. I want you to do the same. Slow and easy.'

'Hmmm, yes. Interesting. That both relieves and builds tension, at the same time.'

'Don't analyze, Cas, just feel. I bet your balls ache, after denying yourself all day. Reach down with your other hand, get to know them.' There was a small sound, perhaps a whimper. 'Gently, they're very sensitive.' Dean could hear Castiel's breathing pick up.

'I need more, Dean. Please, what should I do?'

'You can touch yourself elsewhere, too. Take your hand off your balls, bring it back up to your nipples. Play with them, get 'em all tight and perky.' Dean continued to slowly stroke his dick, feeling an orgasm gradually building, but still under control.

Castiel was starting to make more noise, the little gasping mewls that were among Dean's favorites of his vocalizations. 'Grip your dick a little tighter now, move a little faster. You can vary your strokes, too. Add anything that feels good, maybe a little twisting motion, a squeeze to the head, find what works for you.'

'Ahh, Dean, I can feel it. I am nearly there. Oh, ooh, yes, so close!'

'Good, that's good, Cas. Now, we're going to work on your control. Slow it down again, ease your grip.'

'B-but Dean!' Castiel's voice expressed equal parts shock and protest.

Dean put the snap of command into his voice, 'Do it, Cas!' There was a gasp on the other end of the line, and Dean grinned. Oh yeah, this was doing it for him. 'Easy, easy, calm your breathing, let yourself relax.'

'You can _not_ be serious.'

A rising whine indicated that Castiel was being obedient, but wasn't finding it easy. Dean imagined him writhing against the headboard, eyes closed and head thrown back, dark hair damp with sweat. He'd be fighting his body's demands, struggling to obey Dean instead.

'I am, actually. This is an important part of it, Cas, you're going to want to know this.'

'Know what?' Castiel breathed, clearly finding it hard to think.

'How to back off when you get close. Otherwise, sex will usually be over shortly after you get started. It can be fun to rush to the finish line sometimes, but you're also going to want to be able to draw it out, prolong the experience. That takes control, and knowledge of your body and its responses.'

'This is all still very new to me.'

'Exactly. Most recently ex-virgins have a hair-trigger, but you're really not that bad. Maybe because you're past the teenage-hormone stage. Or maybe because you're accustomed to having a great deal of control over your vessel, I don't know. That you managed to keep your hands off all day today also proves that you have an iron will.'

'It helped that I did not know how to do this, then.' Castiel's breathing had smoothed out, and his voice had firmed; he'd come down from the edge.

'Let's take it back up, you know what to do now. As you touch yourself, I want you to imagine that it's not your hand on your dick, it's mine. That I'm the one touching your nipples, that I'm breathing into your neck, about to bite down...'

Castiel whimpered, and Dean could hear the wet sounds of his hand moving with increasing speed as he pumped himself higher. Castiel started to gasp, and Dean knew it was going to be all over in a second.

'That's enough, Cas. Put both hands flat on the bed, right now.'

Castiel couldn't even manage to protest in words this time, he was too far gone for that. Instead, Dean was treated to a series of desperate noises that were such a turn-on that he had to take his hand away from his own dick, or he'd set a bad example for his student. He could picture Cas rutting helplessly into empty air, seeking in vain for the necessary friction.

'Nngh, Dean, this is too hard! I need you to let me finish. _Please!'_ His voice was actually shaking, and Dean twisted on the bed, his body thrilled by the sound of such need. He had to pause a moment, to be sure his own voice wouldn't come out shaky.

'Not much longer, Cas, I promise. I'm going to show you one more technique, okay?'

'Huh, uh-huh, yeah.'

Couldn't access the big words anymore, Dean noticed. Nice. He could see that being an excellent measure of Castiel's level of arousal. 'You have the remote?'

A pause, then, 'Yes, I have it.'

'Hold it in one hand. Get a good tight grip on your cock with the other, right down close to the base. Don't move that hand, keep a strong hold. Okay?'

'Yes, okay.'

Dean took a deep breath, and began to stroke himself off. He wasn't far from orgasm himself, but Cas was gonna go quick, and he wanted to be right there with him. 'When I tell you you can come, you can let go. Until then, you hang on. Now, turn on the toy.'

Cas activated the vibration mechanism of the butt plug that had been in his ass all along, adding a whole new dimension of stimulus to the already sensitized area. Dean heard the breathless scream, and his hand started whipping over his dick as he pictured Cas convulsed with pleasure.

' _Deeeaaann!!',_ Cas yelled, voice rapidly rising in volume and desperation. 

'Now, Cas! Come for me!'

'AAHHHH!!'

That was it for Dean, Castiel's scream of completion triggered his own release. His breath clogged in his throat as every muscle in his body locked up, hot splashes of come painting his chest. When it was over, he sagged into a state of profound relaxation. 'Cas?', he inquired, his voice low and roughened by pleasure.

'Huuhh?'

'Feeling better?'

A blissed-out sigh, 'Awesome.'

Dean's already good mood brightened further, love and laughter a warm glow in his chest. Cas, Cas was awesome.

'You did great, hon. Hey, that was two firsts for you, soloing and phone sex. Congrats.'

'You are a good teacher, Dean.'

'Oh, I've still got plenty I could show you. It's a pleasure to have such an apt pupil.'

'I look forward to the next lesson.'

'Keep using the toy, a couple of hours a day at least. I want your body to get used to the stretch, because when I get home, I'm going to teach you what it's like to get fucked into the mattress.'

' _Dean_.'

Dean shivered, he'd done it again; said his name with those _layers_. The love, the lust, the longing, they speared through Dean, igniting fires throughout his being. He burned to be with Castiel, to take him in his arms, pull him close and confirm once again, that this magnificent being was his.

'God, Cas, what you do to me. I'm coming home as soon as possible! Now that we know what's going on here, we won't have to stay much longer.'

'Yes, please return soon. I want to be with you.'

'Oh yeah, me too! But for now, I better go. I need to brief Sam, and get some sleep. I'll call you again, tomorrow.'

'For more phone sex?'

'Depends on how close I am. Maybe it'll be to tell you to get naked and be waiting for me in our bed, cause I'm just a few minutes away.'

' _Yeesss_.'

'Whew! Picturing that's gonna have me hard all damn day. Again! Okay, gonna go now, for real. Sleep well. Dream of me.'

'Good night, Dean. I love you.'

'Love you too, Cas. Bye.'

Dean hung up, and spent a few moments just savoring how good Cas could make him feel. Then he sighed with resignation, and got up to clean up, dress, and get back on the job.


	6. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean can't wait to get home to Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little self-soothing smut, to help me get over the angst of 9x09.

Sam and Dean, still in their FBI guises, checked in with shelters, soup kitchens, and the like in the local area. It seemed that there'd been some drop-off in numbers in the past few days, but not as much as they'd been expecting. Certain of the regulars hadn't been around, but no one expected anything like dependability in such places.

They inquired about missing persons at the police precinct, and learned that those numbers were up, but again, not by so much as to cause undue alarm. The police were also less likely to be concerned, because the majority of those that had been reported missing had histories of drug abuse. Some had disappeared before, and others had taken cash, cars, and other resources from their families with them; they looked more like runaways than victims.

They'd just finished up a series of interviews at a church that ran an outreach program, and were ready to wrap up their investigation. On their way back to the car, as they passed a woman working in the garden, they heard a quietly hissed, 'Winchester'. Dean stopped short, and turned to look at her.

She rose from her kneeling position to face them. She was a small woman, and from the state of her hair and clothing, it was clear that she was one of the ones the church was trying to help. She glanced nervously around, then spoke in a quiet voice, 'You are the Winchester brothers, yes?'

'What's it to you?', Dean asked, wondering how she'd recognized them.

Light briefly flared behind her eyes, and Dean inhaled sharply, realizing that here was one of the possessed humans. 'You are known associates of the seraph, Castiel. Is he with you?'

'No.' Dean stuck to the letter of the truth, 'He went missing after The Fall. Who are you, and what do you want with Cas?'

'My name is Lailah. I wish only to warn him, he is being hunted. If you see him, please pass on the message.'

'Who's hunting him?'

'Almost all of the Host. Some are looking to exact revenge, for the damage he has caused. Others are desperate for more information, to know if the spell that caused us to be cast from our home can be undone. Everyone knows that Castiel was working with Metatron, that he is responsible for our plight.'

Dean couldn't argue that, not without revealing that he knew Cas' side of the story. His heart ached though, at this confirmation that Castiel's family was out to get him. 'What's your interest?'

'I have none. I am a neutral party, I wish only to survive this troubled time. But I am aware that Castiel may be key to reversing the spell, and his death could make that impossible. That is my only purpose in providing this warning.'

Dean gritted his teeth at this further proof that angels were dicks. Pissed, he took a menacing step toward her. 'Did you steal that body you're in?'

She glared up at him, defiant. 'She consented. She was disease-ridden and half starved. I provide both health and strength.'

'But you're in charge, she's just a passenger in her own body.'

'I take control when it is needful, such as now. But for the most part, I am content to allow her to go about her business. Staying mostly dormant keeps me from being easily detectable by those of my brethren who wish me to join their ranks.'

'Ranks? Angels are forming an army?'

'Factions are forming, yes.'

'Who's in charge?'

'Bartholomew is the one who organized the taking of hosts in this city. He has given specific orders to some, but many remain here, hiding as I am, awaiting further developments.'

Well, at least they now knew who the head dick was, that was a start. Much as he hated the necessity, if they wanted to keep Leilah as a possible source of information, he was going to have to thank her for speaking up. 'We appreciate the information, Leilah. Is there anything else you can tell us?'

She shrugged, 'You know as much as I do, at this time.'

'Would you be willing to contact us, if you learn anything more?'

'To what end?'

He ground his teeth again, and tried to come up with a reason that would appeal to the self-serving angel. 'We'll be working on finding a way to break the spell, too. You never know what might prove important, anything you tell us might provide the necessary clue to finding the solution.'

She looked at them consideringly. 'I suppose you have had success in the past, in overcoming long odds. Very well, how may I reach you?'

Dean wrote down a number, and offered it to her on a slip of paper. She didn't take it, just looked at it long enough to memorize it. Then, with a nod, she simply turned and walked away.

Sam stared at her retreating back. 'Wow, she was a real piece of work, huh?'

'You can say that again. I think we've learned all we can here, Sammy. What say we head for home?'

'Sure, just as soon as we get some lunch; I'm starved. I saw a half-decent looking place a couple blocks back.'

'As long as they serve something besides rabbit food, I'm in. Let's go.'

* * *

Dean took the stairs down into the bunker with leaps and bounds. He was grinning like a kid at Christmas, just because he had a home to come back to, and someone waiting for him in it. Sure, he'd kinda-sorta had that for awhile with Lisa, but it had always been her home, not his. And he'd never been half so keen to see her as he'd been all day, to see Cas. To be coming _home_ , to _Cas_. Seriously, how awesome was that?

He hurried toward his room, all lit up with joy and anticipation. He flung open the door with a flourish, grinning goofily and calling out, 'Hi honey, I'm ho...ly shit!' That was all he managed before his brain forgot there was such a thing as language. Jaw hanging open, Dean stood frozen in the doorway, dumbstruck into idiocy by the sight before him.

Castiel was reclining on the bed, completely and utterly naked. Well, except for the cock-ring nestled firmly around the base of his impressive erection - the erection he was slowly and sensuously stroking with one hand, while he gazed with soul-searing intensity at Dean. Cas let Dean take him in for a moment, then casually folded his feet back alongside his thighs and fucking _undulated_ his way upright without using his hands.

Dean nearly swallowed his tongue as Cas' hips thrust that mouth-watering dick high into the air, and he pulled off some kind of belly-dancer-graceful move as his torso followed it. Dean moaned as a single word managed to make it back into his consciousness. _Flexible_ , he thought helplessly, and his hands suddenly ached with a fierce desire to be in contact with all that warm, firm skin; to feel those smooth, toned muscles move and flex beneath it.

'Dean,' Cas murmured in his smoke-and-whisky voice, a world of welcome in the tone. The low, husky voice was also full of sensual promise, tugging at something low in Dean's gut, reeling him in. Mesmerized, Dean stumbled forward on shaky legs, barely having the presence of mind to swing the door shut behind him.

Castiel swung around on one knee, so that he was facing the side of the bed. He barely had time to brace himself before Dean was slamming into him, catching him up in a full-on embrace, mouth blindly seeking his. Dean groaned at the feel of Castiel's chest pushed up hard against his, of Cas' arms closing strong around his sides.

More, he needed more. Lowering one arm, he grabbed at Cas' ass, and pulled forward so that Castiel's hips ground into his. His other hand snaked into the dark, silky hair at the back of Cas' head, bringing him in tighter while Dean plundered his mouth. The full-body contact was everything Dean needed, and so far from enough that he didn't know what to do.

Cas did, though. He was tugging at the back of Dean's t-shirt, trying to get it up and off. With a whiny sound of frustrated need, Dean broke away from Cas' mouth, and leaned back long enough to whip the shirt off and away. Then he dove back at Castiel, and oh _yes_ , that was so much better.

While Dean reveled in the skin-to-skin contact, Castiel somehow retained enough presence of mind to get his hands between them, working frantically to get Dean's jeans open. As soon as he had enough room, he drove a hand down into Dean's pants, and got a good strong grip on the hot, hard length trapped there.

Dean made a noise into Cas' mouth that might have been a shriek if he'd had any air left in his lungs. Jesus _God_ , how did Cas turn him on so much, so fast? Just that, the feel of his hand wrapped around his dick, had sent lightning streaking through his whole body. Even now, his bones hummed with a kind of electricity, hotly anticipating the next bolt of pleasure.

Another wave immediately flared through him as Cas jacked him once, the motion also serving to pull him free of his underwear. His hips snapped forward, pushing his dick into Castiel's hand, a wordless plea for more. Cas obliged, pumping strongly as his other hand worked to push Dean's pants down his thighs.

Dean suddenly couldn't stand the constriction of his clothes, and once again pulled back from Castiel so that he could get naked, too. Castiel let him go so that he could take a step back, and fumble his way free of boots and jeans, cursing as he nearly fell over in his eagerness.

Finally, gloriously free, Dean fell to his knees beside the bed, and looked up at the kneeling form of his lover. Castiel looked wild and primitive, like some ancient god waiting to be worshipped. Cas bent forward a little, reaching a hand down to card gentle fingers through the short hair at the side of Dean's head; a benediction.

Dean leaned forward, pressing his mouth to Cas' leg, just above the knee. He began to kiss his way upward, as his hands slid up the back of Castiel's legs to that high, tight rear. Castiel straightened up, his butt cheeks tightening as Dean's hands closed over them, pushing his dick out toward Dean's approaching mouth.

Dean pulled his head back so that he could get a good look at what Castiel was offering. He took in the way Cas' dick was straining above the restriction of the cock-ring. He was abruptly glad that he'd bought the one adjustable to 17 different positions, because he was pretty sure he'd underestimated Cas' girth. Dean closed his hand over Cas' cock, feeling how impressively hard it was, and looked up at him in question.

Castiel spoke in a gravel-choked voice, 'I did not trust my own control, Dean. I knew I would not last for as long as I wished, and as this device is designed to help with that, I took the initiative to use it. You do not mind?'

'Fuck, no,' Dean assured him. 'It's goddamn hot, you're goddamn hot.' Then he sucked in a breath, realizing just who he was talking to. 'Shit, sorry. I should probably try not to swear like that around you, huh?'

Castiel blushed, and looked away. 'Please do not restrain yourself on my behalf. I actually find it rather... titillating.'

Dean grinned, loving it. Another kink! His devilish angel got off on dirty god-talk. And thank god for that, because trying to edit out such ingrained swear words while his brain was melting down was liable to give him a stroke. He suddenly wondered what it would take to get _Cas_ to swear on all that was holy. Oh hell yeah, that had just become a new mission in life.

Pleased and wanting to show it, Dean leaned up and mouthed gently at Castiel's balls. Cas gasped, his gaze snapping back to watch as Dean rolled them across his tongue. This time, he found out for sure - he did like it. He liked it so much his back bowed, his head falling back on his neck as he moaned approval.

Dean had to get up off his knees to reach any higher. He put one hand on the bed for leverage, and pulled Cas' eager cock toward him with the other. Holding an awkward half-crouch, he got his head in close enough to swallow that beautiful dick down. Not that he could match Cas in that area, he'd not had a chance to practice after all, but he took in as much as he could.

Above him, Cas groaned loudly, more than happy with Dean's efforts. He swayed, hands settling on Dean's head as he fought to remain upright. Dean bobbed and sucked, also using his hand to work Cas up, until the man was panting and writhing and starting to tremble.

'Dean, _ah!_ Dean, please, I cannot take much more.'

Dean might have been inclined to draw out the delicious torment, but his back and legs were feeling the strain of the awkward position. So he surged up to recapture Cas' mouth, using his body to push Castiel's back onto the bed. Cas went down willing, but Dean had no sooner settled over him when he bucked up and rolled, and suddenly Dean was on the bottom.

Castiel basically attacked Dean, moaning and frenzied. Dean could only gasp and go with it, a little shocked and a lot turned on by the sheer intensity of Castiel's desire. Cas' hands were everywhere, his mouth was licking and biting at Dean's neck, shoulders, collarbone. Dean's head lolled on the pillow as he just lay back and let the waves of sensation roll over him.

Castiel's mouth reached one of Dean's nipples, and Dean squeaked at the sharp nip he dealt it. Cas sucked away the sting, causing the sensitive flesh to tighten into an even more responsive, raised nub. Each flick of his tongue sent mini-bolts of lighting zinging along Dean's nerves, and down his spine, straight to his dick.

Dean couldn't help raising his hips, looking for more stimulation, when Castiel laved attention on his other nipple. Without raising his head, Cas ran a hand down Dean's stomach, blindly seeking his cock. When the wet tip bumped against his palm, he pressed against it with a small circling motion, spreading the slickness.

'Cas!', Dean shouted, bucking up in response to the firm hand that had run flat along his length. Suddenly impatient with his passive role, he surged up, surprising Castiel into rearing back onto his knees. Dean followed him up, and with a strong jerk, pulled him into a full-frontal embrace. Both men groaned at the delicious pressure on their erections, trapped between their stomachs.

Dean captured Castiel's lips, pouring his passion into the kiss. He grabbed at Cas' ass, pulling him closer as he pushed forward with a rolling motion of his own hips. Castiel whimpered and clawed at his back, flexing his ass to thrust as much as he could though his range of motion was limited.

Castiel pulled his mouth free, pressed his forehead to Dean's, and panted for air. He gazed beseechingly into Dean's eyes. 'Dean, please, fuck me now. You promised you would, I have been waiting all day!'

Dean had been fairly obsessed with the thought of it, himself. It had been a hard day, pun intended. 'God, yes! I want to be in you, Cas.'

Castiel moaned, lashes fluttering and eyes losing focus for a moment at the thought of it. Dean moved a hand to reach into the crack of Castiel's ass, seeking out his anus. To his surprise, he found the soft, puckered flesh already swollen and slick.

'Did you prep yourself, Cas?', he asked in surprise. He pushed a finger lightly against the opening, and it slipped easily inside. Castiel gasped and pushed down against his hand, forcing the finger deeper.

'Yes, I did. Your call let me know when you would arrive, so I made sure to be ready for you.'

Dean felt like the luckiest man alive in that moment. What a treasure Castiel was! It was as if he'd been designed specifically for his pleasure. 'Fuck Cas, you're perfect! You're so perfect for me. Lie down, love.'

Castiel scrambled to obey, while Dean reached to the bedside table for a condom and more lube. He readied himself as quickly as possible, the task made more difficult by the way his hands were shaking with eagerness. As he worked, his eyes drank in the picture Castiel made, laid out before him on the bed.

Castiel was the very image of debauchery. Soft, panting breaths issuing from a red, swollen mouth, his lust-blown eyes were fixed on Dean. His finger-touseled hair was damp with sweat, indeed, his whole sex-flushed torso glistened with it. The cherry on top, though, was the rampant cock stretched high over his abdomen. It was an angry red, and looked to be painfully hard.

Still on his knees, Dean shuffled forward, pushing Castiel's legs wide to let him get close. Having done this once before, he felt a little more relaxed and confident, but he was still very much aware of the need to go carefully. Castiel seemed to have none of the inhibitions about bottoming that he'd have, but he was still just as new to this as Dean.

Reaching a lubed hand beneath Cas' balls, Dean pressed firm fingers along the perineum, making Cas' breath hitch. Continuing down, he found his target, and circled around it for a few moments before slowly pushing in two digits. He felt them penetrate past the muscular rings of the outer and inner anal sphincters, and then he was touching the soft, ridged inner wall of the rectum.

Castiel made a sharp sound, and Dean stilled, eyes flashing to his face to see if it had been an expression of pain. But no, bliss was written across his countenance, and he was lifting his ass toward Dean, begging for more. Dean moved his fingers around, then pushed in and out, finding the motion smooth and easy. He added a third finger, watching Cas for any signs that the stretch was too much.

Castiel's head tossed on the pillow, and his hands opened and closed, looking for something to hold onto. 'I am ready, Dean,' he gasped out. 'Please, please, now.'

Happy to comply, Dean took himself in hand, got lined up, and began to push his way into Castiel. He felt the inner ring of muscle tighten briefly, then relax and the head of Dean's cock was suddenly through. He pushed just a little further in, then rocked back and forth, working Cas open.

It was apparent when he got deep enough to be brushing over Cas' prostate with each short stroke, from the incredible reaction it got. Castiel went wild, writhing and making the most amazing noises, moans and gasps and sobs. Dean would have continued like that for awhile, but Cas was turning him on so much that his body took over; he couldn't help the strong thrust forward. 

He slid home with surprising ease, Castiel's body welcoming the intrusion. Seated deep, Dean reasserted control and forced himself into stillness, giving Castiel a chance to adjust to his size. He leaned down over him, bringing their bodies into alignment.

Castiel eagerly reached up and pulled him down into his embrace. Dean supported his weight on his arms, bracing them on the bed above Cas' shoulders. They kissed sweetly for a moment, before urgency once again overwhelmed Castiel. He squirmed under Dean, trying to raise his hips despite Dean's weight. 'Nggh, Dean. Move!'

Dean pulled back, almost all the way, then slid back in on a long, slow stroke. Both men groaned deeply at the sensations flooding them. Castiel had had enough of slow and careful though, he wanted hard and fast and deep. 'I will not break, Dean. I want you to fuck me, good and hard!'

And with that permission, Dean's control broke. Suddenly desperate, he began to thrust strong and deep, as his body had been begging him to do.

' _Ahh_ , Dean! Yes, like that!', Castiel cried out, throwing his head back with ecstasy. Dean had raised up enough to give him room to thrust, and Cas lifted his hips to meet each stroke.

'God, Cas, you feel so good!', Dean panted, feeling like his whole system was about to short-circuit with pleasure. His hips began to stutter, but he wasn't ready for this incredible ride to be over, so he reluctantly slowed and tried desperately to pull back from the edge.

Castiel had been ready to crest for some time, and outright wailed when he was denied that last bit of stimulation he needed. 'No, Dean, what are you doing?' He bucked his hips and clutched at the small of Dean's back, trying to force him back to the previous rhythm. 'I need more!'

'Don't worry, Cas. I promised to fuck you into the mattress, and that's just what I'm gonna do.' Dean sat back, and pulled Castiel's legs up from around his waist, positioning them over his shoulders instead. Then he leaned forward again, folding Cas in on himself. Oh god, _flexible_ , a part of his mind once again reverently observed.

In this position, Dean was able to thrust deep and hard. He took it slow for a few strokes, making sure Cas could take it, then let himself go. He slammed into Castiel, over and over, as his whole body lit up with the gathering energy of his rapidly approaching climax.

Beneath him, Castiel was only able to lie there and take the pounding. His mouth open on a silent scream, he dug his short nails into Dean's back. Feeling how Castiel was tensing up all over, Dean knew he was about to go off, cock ring or no. Amazing himself at his own coordination, Dean managed to get a hand between them, and onto Castiel's rigid, engorged cock. Castiel sucked in a shocked breath, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Dean's fingers found the catch on the cock ring, and flicked it open, releasing it. 'Now, Cas, come now!', he shouted, knowing that Castiel really didn't have a choice in the matter. Castiel's body completely locked up and he screamed, coming so hard that semen splashed high enough to splatter over his face.

Some got onto Dean's face as well, but he was too far gone to notice. Seeing Castiel lose it had killed any hope Dean had of controlling himself further, and with an animalistic roar, he jackhammered into Cas' tight, spasming hole. In mere seconds, Dean too was arching, yelling, and spurting hard as his orgasm completely overwhelmed him.

Trembling and ready to collapse with exhaustion, Dean barely managed to find the strength to get off Cas, and get rid of the condom. Castiel hadn't even tried to move, letting his legs fall limply to the bed when Dean pulled back. He lay sprawled, eyes closed and mouth loose and open. Dean fell forward, ending up half on the bed and half on Cas, one arm and one leg flung over him. Uncaring of the mess, Dean snuggled close; contented and together, they fell into sleep.


	7. Loving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel give each other a precious gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice and shmoopy, to celebrate Christmas. Happy holidays, everyone!
> 
> Oh, and if you'd like to give me a Christmas gift, I'm particularly partial to comments. I love Kudos, too. ;)

Dean awoke to find himself wrapped as far around Castiel as he could possibly get. Apparently their recent separation, combined with the angel's history of abruptly vanishing from Dean's life, had convinced his subconscious that he needed to hold on tight.

Castiel slept peacefully, curled on his left side and tucked tightly against Dean. Dean eased himself back a little, still spooning, but in a more relaxed way. Nose pressed to Cas' nape, he drew in the scent of sleep-warmed man, committing to memory the scent that was uniquely Castiel. He smelled as good to Dean as fresh-baked apple pie.

To his surprise, breathing Cas in simultaneously relaxed and aroused him. But then, it seemed he couldn't be anywhere near Castiel these days without getting aroused; or nowhere near Cas, but just thinking of him. It seemed crazy to him now, that they'd been able to be in such close proximity for so long, without succumbing to the magnetic pull between them.

God, it was good to be able to reach out and touch, Dean thought, drawing a hand down Castiel's bare torso. His wrist brushed against Cas' half-hard cock, and it twitched and grew, orienting toward him like a flower toward the sun. Dean trailed gentle fingers along its length, petting it like it was a friendly animal.

As he drew his fingers back up, he noticed some dry and flaky patches around the head. It was dried come from the night before, they'd passed out before cleaning up. Not wanting Cas to wake up uncomfortable, Dean spat into his palm, then smoothed the warm liquid over Cas' dick, dissolving the dried residue. He repeated the action twice before his hand moved easily over skin that was smooth and slick.

He was so engrossed in his self-appointed task that he was startled when Castiel's dick pushed up into his hand, just a little. His eyes flew to Cas' face, to see a small smile hovering on his lips, though his eyes stayed closed. His body also remained lax, loose and languid, and Dean got the hint. Lazy sex it was, then. He was happy to provide.

Pressing a kiss to Castiel's shoulder, Dean continued to gently stroke his dick, letting him enjoy the slow simmer of arousal. Castiel's breaths grew gradually deeper, as his cock grew harder. When Dean felt wetness seep from the head, his own cock pulsed and dampened the small of Castiel's back with a small spurt of pre-come.

Castiel moved for the first time, pressing his butt back into Dean's hardness. Dean groaned at the delicious pressure, and pushed back, needing more. Cas lifted his uppermost leg, and slung it over the top of Dean's, spreading himself in blatant invitation. Dean's cock pulsed again, eager to take him up on it.

Keeping as much of himself pinned against Castiel as possible, Dean reached back and up, fumbling at the table behind him. Finding what he needed mostly by touch, he turned back to Castiel's warm, pliant body. Canting his hips back just enough to allow it, he eased a hand between them, reaching for Cas with slickened fingers.

Castiel's head lolled back toward him, but he didn't open his eyes. Dean nibbled at his neck, alternating little bites with sucking, open-mouthed kisses, as he began to tease Cas open. A shiver rippled down Castiel's spine when Dean blew gently on the wet flesh. Cas pressed his ass at Dean again, and Dean slipped a finger inside.

Castiel's mouth fell open, his body demanding more air. He'd yet to make a sound, and Dean was beginning to miss his sexy little noises. He worked a second finger into Cas, but couldn't twist his wrist far enough around to get at his prostate. He was pretty sure the angle would be excellent once he got his dick in there, though.

When he felt Castiel was ready, he tore open the packet holding the condom with his teeth, then awkwardly rolled it on with one hand. He got himself lined up, and pushed forward gently. Castiel was still utterly relaxed, and the head of Dean's cock slipped through the two rings of muscle with gratifying ease.

Dean paused, and reached around to find Cas' dick just as hard as he'd left it. He encircled the weeping head with a loose fist, then drew it down the rigid length at the same time as he slowly thrust forward into Castiel's body. Cas' breath caught, and a tremor ran through him as he fought not to tense up, not to move, not to thrust.

Just as slowly, Dean pulled back, sliding his fist upward as he did so. Then he sank in again, fucking his fist with Cas' dick as if it were his own, as if he was jerking himself off through Castiel's body. He continued like that, keeping the pace languid and his fist loose, until he was nearly trembling with the need for more, faster, harder.

Castiel's face was no longer quite so relaxed; he appeared to be concentrating deeply. Dean knew he was getting to him. Cas' dick would helplessly twitch, his breath hitch just a little, every time his prostate was gently rubbed as Dean thrust past it. His breaths continued to get deeper, like he could keep control if only he could get enough air.

Dean was startled by the suddenness of the end, when it came; with a sharp cry, Castiel just _broke._ His whole body convulsed as pleasure crested, overwhelmed him, and tightened everything at once. Dean immediately firmed his grip on Castiel's surging cock, and thrust into him hard for a few strokes, taking him even higher.

When Cas relaxed back into bonelessness, Dean let go and slowed his thrusts again, knowing he'd be oversensitive for a few minutes. It was damnably difficult, though; nothing got him going more than seeing, hearing, and feeling Cas come. As Castiel had done, he took deep breaths, trying to just allow the pleasure to wash over and through him.

Dean was barely holding off when Castiel turned his face toward him, his eyelids opening to a lazy half-mast. The punch of those blue eyes pushed Dean right to the edge, and he hung there, now barely daring to breathe lest he topple over. He pushed deep one more time, just as Castiel reached up and gently touched his cheek.

'Beloved,' Cas murmured, and _oh_ , Dean was just _gone_. Castiel held his gaze as Dean trembled and poured love into him, body and soul. Dean actually felt tears prick at his eyes; he'd never felt so cherished. Spent and overwhelmed, he tucked his face into Castiel's neck, and concentrated on riding out the huge wave of emotion without crying like a damn girl.

Dean felt himself slip free as Castiel turned to face him, to cradle him in his arms. In an instant, the love Dean was feeling was once again marred by fear; he couldn't lose this. 'Missed you, Cas,' he choked out, 'so much.'

'And I, you. But we are together now,' Castiel soothed, sensing his distress. Even without his mind-reading powers, he picked up on the fact that Dean's words did not refer to simply the past two days. He tried to comfort, 'I am not going anywhere.'

'You're being hunted, Cas. There's a price on your head the size of Pluto.' Why couldn't anything good happen, without the whole freaking world conspiring to take it away from him? 'We have to take every precaution, to keep you safe. The warding you put up over the past couple of days, will it keep other angels from finding you? Like the sigils you burned into my and Sam's ribs?'

'Yes, I am well hidden here,' Castiel reassured him. 'But if I venture out, I will become vulnerable to detection.' He traced warm fingers over the anti-possession tattoo on Dean's chest. 'I could devise a warding sigil, to make me appear to be no different than any other human; just another one among billions.'

'You'd be willing to get a tattoo? You really should have one of these, too,' Dean said, touching his own. 'I know a guy who works in the Hunter community, he'd make time for us, no problem. Should I call him?'

Cas nodded, and Dean felt a little better. He couldn't ask Castiel to stay cooped up in the bunker forever, and anything that would help keep him safe when he was out in the world was to be given top priority. He shuddered to think how blithely they'd shopped, just days ago. They'd probably escaped detection only because the angels hadn't yet gotten themselves organized.

Now that he had a mission, Dean was eager to get going. He took the time to thoroughly kiss Cas good morning first, though; he had his priorities straight.

* * *

After breakfast, Dean made arrangements while Castiel worked on sketching out an appropriate sigil. Dean nodded approval of the finished product, liking the look of it. He started to get hard again, thinking of how hot Cas would look wearing that as a tattoo. Castiel was already looking damn good today, wearing a dark blue button-down and pale blue jeans; with his dark hair and those eyes, whew! It was all Dean could do not to drag him right back to the bedroom.

But there was no time for that. The tattoo artist could take them today, but only if they could get there by 11:00 am. It was already past 9:00, and would take nearly that long to get there. They were on their way out when Sam stopped them, holding out a piece of paper. Dean took it, and found it to be a grocery list.

'Aw, man. Do we have to?'

'Do you want bacon for breakfast tomorrow, or cereal again?'

'Fine, fine! We'll stop on the way back.' Dean hustled Cas outside before Sam could saddle them with any more errands.

* * *

'So, what do you want, and where?', Marvin, the tattoo artist, asked Castiel.

'I would like one to match his,' Castiel nodded at Dean, 'and this symbol below it, about here.' He indicated a spot low on his ribcage. Marvin looked at Cas' sketch, then at Dean. Dean pulled the collar of his shirt down, to display his anti-possession tattoo.

'Sure, easy-peasy. Won't take but a coupla hours.' He indicated that Castiel should remove his shirt, and recline on the dentist-style chair nearby. Marvin washed his hands, then cleansed and shaved the areas of Cas' body where the tattoos were to go. Cas had little in the way of body hair, for which Dean was grateful, but it was standard procedure.

Marvin created stencils, and once Castiel had approved them, transferred the designs to Cas' flesh. He had Cas stand in front of a mirror, to be sure he liked the placement. Castiel met Dean's eyes in the mirror, silently asking if he approved.

'That looks good, Cas,' Dean assured him. 'What do you think?'

'Yes, I like it too,' Castiel decided. He turned to Marvin, 'You may proceed.' He went and lay back down on the chair, while Marvin got his tools from the autoclave. Dean found a regular chair and pulled it over, turning it around so that when he sat he was straddling it, his arms crossed over the top. He rested his chin on his arms, and prepared to watch the procedure.

Marvin settled in next to Castiel, perched on a rolling stool. Picking up the tattoo gun in his gloved hand, he began to work on the outline of the anti-possession tattoo. Castiel had been watching his every move with interest, but at the first bite of the needle, he inhaled and his eyes flew up to meet Dean's.

Dean felt a small surge of something oddly like happiness, that Cas' first instinct was to look to him. He didn't like that Castiel had to endure pain, but was glad that he had someone he felt he could turn to, to help him deal with it. He felt an urge to take Cas' hand, but wasn't quite confident enough to follow through on the impulse in front of Marvin.

Castiel didn't need hand-holding anyway, he was already back to watching Marvin, fascinated by the process. As stoic as he'd been walking on blistered feet, he showed little further evidence of pain. Dean was damn proud of him.

Dean also felt absurdly thrilled when Marvin finished filling in the lines of the first tattoo, that now Cas carried a mark that matched his and Sam's. Dean felt like he'd laid some sort of claim on Castiel, marking him permanently as a member of the Winchester clan; marking him as _his_.

When the second design had been completed, Castiel checked them out in the mirror again. The dark ink stood out in sharp contrast to his reddened flesh. Dean came up to stand behind him, looking on admiringly.

'Pretty badass, Cas. They suit you.' Unfortunately, to protect them, the new tattoos had to be covered by a bandage, for the first 24 hours. Dean looked forward to the time when they would be healed enough for him to trace every graceful, curving line with his tongue.

With the internal pressure to protect satisfied for the moment, Dean's next thoughts were of how to care for his love's other needs. It was early afternoon, and they'd missed lunch. Marvin recommended a quiet bistro nearby, where, 'Seriously man, you have to try the steak.'

* * *

It was only as Dean was walking into the small restaurant, alone with Cas, that he realized - they were on a date. For all that they were together anyway, the idea made his stomach do a nervous little flip. At least the lunch rush was over, so when they were settled at a small table near the back of the room, it was fairly private.

There were two kinds of steak on the menu. Cas got the hanger steak with shallot butter, and Dean ordered the other one because it came with yummy caramelized onions. When the waitress brought their food, Dean waited to see what Castiel's reaction would be.

Cas did not disappoint. A blissful expression crossed his face at the first bite, 'Mmm, Dean, this is very good. How is yours?' Dean cut into his own steak, and took a hearty mouthful. He chewed thoughtfully, and decided that Marvin had been right, this place could really do steak.

'Oh yeah, that's good stuff. A quality cut, properly cooked, is a real treat.'

'I remember being affected by Jimmy's fondness for red meat, while under the influence of Famine. Then, I thought the happiness to be found in eating to be an exaggerated effect, a result of his power. Despite the enjoyment I observed you and Sam express while consuming favored foods, I thought of eating as simply a necessary refueling process for your bodies.'

'Mom Nature helps keep us alive by making stuff necessary for survival feel good, but we humans always seem to take it too far. Witness the obesity epidemic and overpopulation problem.'

'I was aware that the act of procreation was pleasurable, but I had no concept of just how much. It is somewhat surprising that acts which cannot result in conception still provide such gratification.'

'I guess, once you make nerves sensitive for one purpose, there's no reason not to enjoy them otherwise, just because you can. Humans can be pretty inventive, when it comes to finding ways to feel good.'

Castiel smiled at Dean, 'I appreciate you showing me the many ways this body can experience pleasure. It has made my transition to a human life much easier to tolerate.'

'How are you doing with that? Is there anything else you need, anything that would make things better for you?'

'I am already doing far better than I would have expected.' Cas reached over and put his hand over Dean's. 'I did not expect to find such welcome, a home, or your love. Truly, it is worth the loss of Heaven and my Grace, to have been given the opportunity to experience these things.'

Dean swallowed, a little choked up, and turned his hand so that he was clasping Castiel's. 'Damn, Cas. It shouldn't have to be one or the other. I'm sorry for what's happened to you, but I'm a selfish bastard, because I can't help but be happy about it too. It brought us together, and we might never have gotten there, otherwise.' His hand tightened around Castiel's. 'You mean the world to me, Cas.'

The waitress grinned at the adorable couple lost in each other's eyes, and went over to offer water and ask if they needed anything else. She assumed they would like the chance to enjoy their food, before it got cold.

A little embarrassed, Dean inquired about the dessert menu, and was delighted to learn that apple pie was a specialty of the house. When she served it to them later, warmed and accompanied by ice cream containing flecks of real vanilla, it was so good it made both of them moan.

* * *

Shopping for groceries with Castiel was a novel experience. He kept asking questions for which Dean had no good answer, like how to pick out the best fruit or vegetable, or why one particular brand over another. Still, his interest and child-like enthusiasm made the routine chore far more enjoyable than usual, even if it did take longer.

It was early evening by the time they got back to the bunker, bringing home a couple of boxes of pizza as well as the supplies. Not about to let Castiel carry heavy bags, Dean commandeered Sam and Kevin for the task of hauling stuff inside. He stayed in the kitchen with Cas, unpacking and showing him where everything belonged.

Dean was bent over, shoving a case of beer onto the bottom shelf of the fridge, when a hand slid down the crack of his ass, clear to his balls. With a startled yelp, he straightened and whipped around, to find Cas _grinning_ at him. He didn't know what he found more surprising, that Cas had goosed him, or how relaxed, happy, and mischievous he looked.

'Fuck me, Cas,' he laughed. 'I thought you'd nodded off during that scene of The Big Easy.'

'I would like that, Dean,' Castiel positively growled, moving in to embrace Dean, sucking at his neck. Dean let his head fall back with a moan.

'Like w-what?', he managed, not following so well with his brain suddenly oxygen-deprived. He ground his blood-engorged dick against an answering hardness in Castiel's pants.

'I would like to fuck you,' Cas replied, like it was no big deal. But Dean's mind was suddenly back on alert, because this was new territory, and that demanded his full attention. He drew back a little, so that he could look Castiel in the eye.

'You want to top?', he asked, just to be sure.

'I wish to know what it is like to be in you,' Cas replied, proving that yes, he knew what that meant. Then, sensing the disturbance in Dean, he drew back a little. 'Unless, that is not something you desire. I do not mind continuing to bottom.'

Dean didn't like seeing a playful, confident Castiel become suddenly uncertain, because of his hangups. Fuck, he could do this. Cas could, and clearly enjoyed it. There was no way in hell he'd let anyone else near his back door, but Cas? There was nothing he wouldn't do for him.

Dean cupped Castiel's face in his hands, and kissed him tenderly. 'I want you any way I can get you, Cas. Anyway, you're still technically a virgin until you get to penetrate someone, and I haven't forgotten my promise to you. You're not gonna die a virgin, not while I have any say in the matter.'

'No den of iniquity or ladies of the evening this time?', Castiel teased, a wry smile on his face.

'What part of 'your dick is mine' was unclear to you? Sorry Cas, but I am now your only option; that ship has not only sailed, it fell off the edge of the world.' Dean was pretty sure Castiel didn't get that reference, but it didn't matter because he was kissing Dean back with so much enthusiasm that Dean actually started to look forward to letting Cas have his way with him.

'You guys coming, or what?', Sam called from the other room, where dinner awaited.

'Not yet,' Cas murmured against Dean's lips. Dean chuckled, delighted at this side of Castiel and hoping to see far more of it.

'Food first, and then I'm all yours,' Dean offered. He was on board with the plan, he was, but wouldn't mind just a little more time to get used to the idea. With a reluctant sigh, Castiel let him go, but his eyes promised that he'd be holding Dean to that.

* * *

Dean didn't eat as much as usual, he was nervous. It wasn't only Cas who'd be losing a kind of virginity tonight. He'd known they'd likely get to this stage, but hadn't really expected it would be so soon. Jesus, had it really been less than a week since he'd brought a newly human Castiel back to the bunker?

Distracted by his thoughts, Dean was surprised when Castiel stopped at his own room rather than continue with Dean, on to his. Was there something in there he needed?

'Wait here, Dean, just a moment,' Castiel told him, and disappeared into his room. When he returned, he handed a small box to Dean. 'I will remain here, for a little time. I assume you would like some privacy, before we begin.'

Dean looked down at what he held, and felt his face heat with a furious blush. The box showed a picture of a blue enema bulb topped by a slender nozzle. Christ, of course, he had to do an anal douche first. 'Jesus, Cas. Where did you get this? Is this what you've used?'

'Yes, Dean. I acquired these items while you were still shopping at Erotique. Sam was kind enough to help me find them in the pharmacy, and to make payment, of course.' Dean's blush intensified, thinking of how mortified Sam must have been. God, no wonder he'd wanted to get back at Dean.

'Remind me to get you some money of your own,' he muttered. 'Okay, yeah. Give me twenty minutes or so.' Castiel nodded and shut the door, and Dean turned reluctantly toward his own room. Gah, this part of it was so very unsexy. But Dean was not one to back out, once he'd made up his mind about something.

Closed in his bathroom, Dean steeled himself, then got on with it. Fortunately, the bulb could be filled with lukewarm water directly from the tap, so it was just a matter of rinse and repeat, until the excreted water ran clear. The worst part was figuring out how to insert the tip of the nozzle the first time, without hurting himself. He quickly realized that this too went better with lube.

Afterward he took his second shower of the day, relaxing under the hot water and making sure he was squeaky clean where it counted. When he walked into his room, naked but for the towel around his waist, he found Castiel sitting on the bed waiting for him.

Castiel's eyes darkened as he watched a bead of water trickle down Dean's chest. He got up and approached Dean, falling to his knees in front of him. Grasping him around the thighs, he put his mouth to Dean's abs, licking them free of any other stray droplets. Dean groaned, the towel tenting outward as his dick immediately responded to the stimulation.

Cas tugged at the towel, and it fell away, leaving Dean completely naked while Castiel was still fully dressed. He hadn't showered, of course, not able to get his new tattoos wet just yet. Dean reminded himself to be careful of the tender flesh.

Because it was right there in front of him, Castiel turned his attentions to Dean's dick. He'd taken the time to shave, Dean realized, as Cas rubbed a smooth cheek along his shaft, like a scent-marking cat. From the look on Castiel's face, Dean figured he'd be purring if he could.

Castiel began to worship Dean's dick with his mouth, and weak-kneed, Dean was suddenly sorry to be standing so far from a wall, or the bed. Bracing his legs to stay upright, he sank his hands into Castiel's hair and just let himself enjoy. It was Castiel's show tonight, he could run it any way he wanted.

Kneading the generous globes of Dean's butt with both hands, Castiel alternated between long, stroking licks, and curling his tongue around the head of Dean's cock, occasionally dipping into the slit. When he started giving rapid little tongue-flicks to the frenulum, Dean gasped and tugged at his hair.

'Unless you're planning to get me off right now, Cas, I need a breather. You're getting way too good at that.'

Castiel took him into his mouth and hummed, making Dean jerk and start to shake. But then Cas drew off with a wet pop, and lowered his mouth to Dean's balls. He oh-so-gently sucked them into a looser state, tugging them down a little. Dean's head fell back, as this both helped to stave off his orgasm, and stimulated him in different ways.

'Fuuuck, Cas. Have I told you how much I love your mouth?' Castiel got up, and brought that mouth up to Dean's, leaning in for a kiss. He was flavored with Dean's own musk, but that was okay. Dean had never been put off by the scents and tastes associated with sex. Hell, they were a turn-on, as far as he was concerned.

Dean immediately went to work on the buttons of Castiel's shirt, wanting naked flesh under his hands. Castiel was running one hand through Dean's short hair, while the other roamed his neck and shoulder. He was making happy little humming noises in his throat, and Dean felt something in his chest melt.

Dean pushed the shirt off Castiel's shoulders, and Cas let him go just long enough to let the sleeves fall from his arms. He gave the hard bulge in Castiel's jeans a loving rub, before opening his pants to set it free. Without breaking from the kiss, Cas toed off his shoes, and kicked his jeans aside when they fell to his feet.

Clad only in socks and a pair of black boxer-briefs, Castiel backed toward the bed, towing Dean along with him. When his legs hit the bed, he turned them both, then gave Dean a little push toward it. 'On your hands and knees please, Dean.'

Well, it seemed Cas wasn't wasting any time. Dean took a deep breath to settle his abruptly nervous stomach, and did as asked. Castiel quickly removed his remaining clothing, then crawled up to kneel between Dean's legs. He ran soothing hands along Dean's back, and kneaded his ass cheeks for a few moments, then spread them wide.

Dean was blushing again, feeling vulnerable and exposed. He didn't think anyone had ever _looked_ at that part of his body before. Castiel pushed and pulled a little at the flesh around his anus, stretching it slightly. Dean expected him to reach for the lube next, but what Cas did instead had him gasping and nearly jerking away.

Castiel leaned down and pressed the flat of his tongue to the tight, furled nub. He then swirled his tongue around it, and Dean was inundated by sensations that were entirely new to him. Each caressing pass of Castiel's tongue was a revelation, he'd had no idea that the area was so sensitive. Holy crap, that actually felt really good!

Castiel played like that for some time, until Dean was squirming and warm spit was running down to his balls. Then Cas brought two fingers to join his mouth, using them to stretch and pull at the swollen flesh, while he pushed gently at the hole with his tongue.   

Dean was flushed all over now, and starting to sweat. He had nothing to do but concentrate on the feel of what Castiel was doing to him, and god help him, he liked it. He was unconsciously pushing himself back at Cas' face, looking for more.

But Castiel pulled away, and Dean almost whimpered at the loss of sensation. It was only so that Cas could finally reach for the lube though, and soon he was right back where he'd been. A finger that was more than spit-slick began to probe at Dean, right alongside that warm, talented tongue.

Dean fought to remain relaxed, knowing what came next. Castiel was showing the patience of a saint, though. Every time Dean tensed, even a little, he stopped pressing inward and just laved more attention on the surrounding area. Dean's arousal would grow again, and Cas would resume his efforts, each time gaining a little more ground.

In time, Dean realized through a haze of lust that Cas had worked a finger fully into him. Castiel was feeling around just inside, letting him get accustomed to the new, odd sensation. Then he removed the finger, only to begin stretching him enough to allow in two.

Now it burned a little, but only at first. The two fingers felt bigger than he thought they ought to, which was worrisome; Cas was not small. But he forgot everything else when Castiel's searching fingers swept over his prostate for the first time.

 _'Jesus Christ!'_ , Dean yelled, his hands nearly coming off the bed as his back arched hard. 'Fuck, _fuck_ , do that again!' Having found the sweet spot, Castiel brushed his fingers back and forth across it, while his mouth continued to lap and suck at Dean's entrance.

Dean was going to lose his damn mind. He panted, writhed and moaned, dripping with sweat. He never even noticed when Castiel added a third finger to the ones already stretching him open. He'd never wanted to come so badly in all his life, and nothing was even touching his cock!

He nearly cried when Castiel removed his fingers and tongue, feeling empty and needy and un-fucking-believably horny. He was actually happy to hear the rip of a condom package being opened, and the wet sounds of lube being smoothed over an eager cock. He wanted to be filled now, he wanted Cas deep inside.

Still, when the head of Castiel's cock pressed insistently at his entrance, Dean couldn't help but tense up. It was instinctive to be on guard against anyone breaching that tender barrier, how could he not protest the invasion of his body? But then, Dean realized on a deep and fundamental level, it wasn't just anyone asking to be allowed in, it was _Cas_. Cas, who he trusted, who he _loved._

And just that suddenly, everything in him relaxed and _opened_ in welcome. Startled, Castiel all but fell into him, the lack of resistance causing him to abruptly slide forward, dick rapidly engulfed by tight, fiery heat, until he was balls-deep in Dean's ass. Overwhelmed by sensation, Castiel arched back, mouth open and eyes closed, hips pushed as far forward as they could go.

'O-oh, _Dean!_ Oh my _God!!',_ Cas cried out. A full-body shudder passed through Dean, not only from being suddenly stuffed full, by what felt like a thick rod of heated iron, but because he'd just learned what it would take to get Cas to swear by God.

Needing to see, Dean looked back over his shoulder. Castiel's body was strung tight, back bowed; his face frozen in a rictus of agonized pleasure. His shaking hands clawed at Dean's hips, having trouble finding purchase against the sweat-slick skin. Dean felt lust punch through him at the sight of his lover so undone, and he clenched around Castiel with a moan.

Castiel's hips jerked sharply, and a sobbing gasp was torn from his throat. Dean knew that he was trying desperately to be still, to allow him a moment to adjust, but Dean was pretty sure that if Cas didn't move _right fucking now_ , he would go _insane_.

'I'm good, Cas,' he prompted, as gently as he could given his own state of desperation. In a voice so wrecked he barely recognized it as his own, he let Castiel know that it was okay to give in to his body. 'I need to feel you. Let yourself go, love.'

Castiel's eyes opened and locked on his, and Dean gasped at the burning intensity of that gaze. The blue he loved so much was all but gone, swallowed by the lust-blown pupils. Evidently reassured by whatever he found in Dean's eyes, Castiel moved with shocking suddenness. Curling forward, he grabbed Dean by the hips, pulled back, then slammed back home.

Both men shouted at the glory of it. Arms gone weak, Dean's upper body sagged, his head drooping low. Voicing sharp, gutteral cries, Castiel pumped into him hard and fast, clearly beyond the limits of his barely fledged control. Dean felt tension winding tight in his core, his senses so heightened that everything was just on the right side of too much.

Cas felt impossibly big, impossibly hard, and Dean couldn't understand how he'd gone all of his life without knowing _this_ , without needing it like food, water, _air_. Breathing was in fact nearly beyond him right now, as he discovered for the first time what it meant to have your prostate _really fucking_ stimulated.

The angle was right, and Castiel was hammering into him, hitting that magic button so hard and so often that Dean couldn't see anything but stars. Fireworks were bursting in his abdomen, and an orgasm was building like a great storm, threatening to break at any moment.

His bobbing cock was so hard it hurt, and Dean couldn't bear to leave it untouched a moment longer. Bracing himself against Cas' powerful but increasingly erratic thrusts with one arm, Dean reached for relief. The very moment he got a hand around himself, Castiel bellowed out, 'God, _Dean!!'_ , and bowed back again as his hips gave one final, hard thrust.

Dean felt both their dicks throb hard, and as if that had been the signal to complete a circuit, an explosion of pleasure blasted through his body, rocketed up his spine, and blew off the top of his head.

* * *

Only realizing he'd been gone when his brain began to slowly come back online, Dean found himself lying flattened under the dead weight of Castiel. While that wasn't uncomfortable, lying in what seemed to be a sizeable wet spot was.

A first attempt to move resulted only in a few meager twitches of limp-noodle muscles. Resigned to giving his body a few more minutes to recover, he relaxed and and luxuriated in the incredible feeling of well-being that suffused his every cell.

Jesus, if he'd known that giving it up to Cas was going to feel that good, he'd have tripped him and beaten him to the ground years ago. Not that he was by any means going to give up the incredible pleasure of burying himself deep in Castiel's body, he loved that too. But they were by god going to do this again. As often as humanly possible.

Above him, Castiel moaned, and somewhere found enough strength to roll over and off of Dean. He flopped onto his back, and fumbled the condom off, dropping it over the side of the bed. With that done, and the painful pressure off his tattoos, he lapsed back into somnolence. Dean managed to pick up his heavy head, just enough to turn it so that he was facing Castiel.

Cas rolled his head toward Dean, and their eyes met. 'Beloved,' Castiel whispered, and Dean felt pleasure burst through him again, but this time it was his soul that shuddered in bliss. 'Love you, Cas,' he managed in return, before drowning in endless, beautiful blue.


	8. Shooting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel begins his training, learning how to fight as a human Hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, and may 2014 be far better than the one Zachariah showed Dean!

Along with delicious crispy bacon, Dean produced an impressive stack of flapjacks for breakfast. Rather than use syrup, Sam sliced fruit over his, which was so predictable it didn't even garner an eye roll from Dean anymore. Cas tried it both ways, and Dean did smile smugly when he showed a preference for sweet syrupy goodness.

Sam was washing dishes, and Dean had just come back into the kitchen to bring him his empty coffee cup, when they heard a rare and special sound coming from the library. They both rushed to the doorway, to see for themselves what was causing it.

What they found was Kevin showing Castiel a YouTube video, something with cats trying and failing to leap onto various things. Cas was laughing, uproariously, uncontrollably. Dean and Sam just stood and stared, because Castiel laughing? Still weird.

Sam eyed Dean's lovestruck expression, 'For someone who's been demonstratively not a morning person, Cas is in a remarkably good mood this morning,' Sam commented. 'What the hell did you guys get up to last night?'

'Um, stayed up late marathoning Doctor Who?' Dean was not about to admit to what else they'd been doing, that would result in a relaxed and happy Cas; especially not to Sam!

'Uh huh,' Sam was pretty sure that wasn't it, but as he probably didn't want to know, he let it pass. 'Has he picked a favorite yet?'

'We started with #9, Eccleston, and haven't gotten as far as Tennant. But I'm betting #10 will be his favorite, because, you know,' Sam grinned and they said it together, 'trenchcoat.'

Standing next to Dean, Sam became aware of a light, flowery scent. He leaned closer to Dean and sniffed. 'Dude. Why do you smell like...', he sniffed again, 'lavender?'

Dean spun around, and moved back into the kitchen, taking the cup he still held to the sink. 'I took a bath, okay? I put some mineral salts in it; didn't realize they were scented when I bought 'em.'

A lightbulb went off for Sam. Something about Dean had been just a bit off that morning, but not enough to really register. Now he realized, Dean had been walking a little gingerly, and that meant... 'Holy shit! You bottomed for Cas last night, didn't you?!'

Dean immediately colored, confirming his suspicion. 'Jesus, Sam! No need to announce it to the world.'

Sam started to laugh. Then, totalling up the days in his head, he realized, 'Oh my god, and it happened within a week of his arrival. Dammit! I owe Kevin another 20 bucks.'

'For fuck's sake, stop betting on my love life!'

* * *

Castiel insisted that he start earning his keep, so he spent the morning familiarizing himself with the cataloguing system used by the Men of Letters. Dean didn't argue, there was something he wanted to work on, too. He spent the hours until lunch preparing a little surprise for Cas.

After a simple midday meal consisting of sandwiches, Dean eagerly dragged Cas off, heading down toward the firing range. Castiel resisted a little, protesting that he really should get be getting back to work.

'This is work too, Cas. You need training, if you're going to hunt as a human. It's important that you learn what the differences are, from fighting as a super-powered angel. We can't do anything too physical today, not when you just got tattooed, but we can get you started with guns.'

Castiel saw the logic in that, and became interested. 'Will I get to fire the one with the pretty handle?'

'It's a pearl inset grip, Cas, and your first lesson? Never refer to it as pretty! To answer your question though, no, not today. Later, I'll show you how to strip down the pistols and clean them, and give you the handgun safety lecture. For now, we're gonna combine work with play.'

Dean led Castiel into the room holding the firing range, and locked the door behind them. For the lesson he had in mind, privacy was required. Castiel didn't notice, his attention had been captured by the bizarre display before him.

Out on the range were multiple targets, but they were far from the usual sort. They were full-sized fantastical figures, including a zombie, a chainsaw wielding madman, a wolf carrying a ripped off arm in its jaws, a leaping wolfman, a giant mutant rat, a charging grizzly, and a psychotic butcher brandishing a cleaver. The targets were arranged at varying distances, from as far as 50 feet away to as close as 6.

On the counter before the range was an odd-looking pistol and four magazines. Castiel walked over for a closer look. Dean gestured for him to pick it up and started to explain what he had in mind.

'That's a paintball gun. Sam and I used to play sometimes, before the trials made him sick. Now that he's better and you and Kevin are here, we can form teams and run around in the woods out back. It's a great way to practice hitting a moving target, one that's also trying to take you out.'

'We found those cool targets at one of those big warehouse type stores, that sell everything you can think of for paintball. Makes it more fun, to try for specific spots the way you would if you were on a hunt. You need a head shot to stop a zombie, for example.'

Dean took the pistol from Cas, and started showing him the features. 'There's a CO2 cartridge here, under the barrel. I'll show you how to change it when it runs out.' He picked up one of the magazines, and tipped it to show the yellow balls of paint inside. 'The magazine holds 7 shots, and you can go through about 4 magazines on a CO2 cartridge, without much loss of accuracy.'

Dean slapped the magazine into the gun, then pointed to the 3 clear ammo windows set vertically into the grip; they all showed yellow. 'You always want to keep track of how many shots you've fired, but this is a nice feature; shows when you're getting low on ammunition.' He demonstrated how to release the magazine, and it shot out into his hand. He then passed the gun to Castiel. 'Here, you try.'

Castiel took the pistol, and practiced loading and unloading it. 'Is this very different from firing a real gun?'

'It's a lot less loud, a lot less lethal, and there's next to no recoil to throw off your aim. But, you'll get the basic idea.' Dean handed Cas a pair of clear goggles to protect his eyes, and donned a pair himself. Then he stepped up behind Castiel, and helped him move his body into a proper shooting stance. He showed him how to use the sights on the gun to aim, then stepped back a bit. 'Okay, let's see what you can do.' He picked a target about 30 feet away. 'Try and hit the bear.'

Castiel took a shot, but it was too high and missed the target altogether. The paintball splattered somewhere on the back wall of the range. He overcorrected on the next shot, and hit the floor in front of the bear target. By the time he'd used up the first 7 shots, he'd gotten a lot more accurate, and there were two yellow splotches in the center of the bear's chest.

'You're doing great, Cas. Now try some at different distances.' Castiel switched out the magazine as he'd been shown, and spent the next 7 shots on closer targets. That proved almost too easy, so the next magazine's load was spent on the ones furthest away. He slapped in the only remaining loaded magazine.

'Last one,' Dean commented. 'Let's switch it up this time. I'll call out a target, and you try to hit it, okay?'

'Yes, Dean.' Castiel was bright-eyed and eager, clearly enjoying himself.

'Ready? Okay, wolf!' [Castiel nailed it.] 'Zombie!' [It took one in the face.] 'Butcher! Wolfman! Chainsaw dude! Bear!' Castiel automatically took aim at the only target not yet named, the rat, but Dean called for the zombie again instead. Castiel jerked the gun back to that one, which happened to be the closest target. He rushed the shot, and the paintball splattered on the zombie's chest.

'Oh, too bad! He got you, Cas. That was your last shot, and he's almost on top of you; you needed to get him in the head.'

'You tricked me.' Castiel aimed a fond smile over his shoulder, showing that he didn't mind. He recognized that Dean was making some valid points. He mustn't assume, and had to be prepared to respond appropriately, if a combat situation were to abruptly change.

'Let's get these magazines reloaded, and go again.' Dean brought out a baggie full of blue paintballs, so they'd be able to tell where the next set of shots landed. He gave two magazines to Cas, and set about loading the other two himself. Then he dry-fired the gun until he'd used up the last of the CO2, and showed Castiel how to exchange the cartridge.

'Chainsaw dude is a too much of a mouthful, so I'm gonna call that guy Ash from now on.' Castiel looked at him questioningly. 'The name comes from a character in the Evil Dead movies, which we will definitely watch sometime. All set there?' Castiel nodded, and took up the pistol again, loading the first magazine into it. He got back into a firing stance, and waited for Dean to call out a target.

'Now we're getting to the real reason I wanted to work with paint and not bullets today.' Dean stepped up behind Castiel again, moulding himself to his back and putting his arms around his waist. 'I want to get across to you how different it will be, to fight as a human.'

Dean ran his hands under Castiel's shirt, caressing the warm skin just above the waistline of his sweatpants. 'Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to try to distract you, getting your body to react without your permission, the way it sometimes will in the field. You're going to listen to me very carefully, because as I speak, I'm going to randomly throw in the name of your next target. You are to immediately try to hit that target, as if it had just leaped at you and your life depended on nailing it.'

'Or your life depended on it?', Castiel asked, humoring him.

'Or Sam's, or Kevin's, or the fate of the world, your choice. Just so long as you gank the bastard, yeah?'

'Yes, Dean. I am ready.'

'So, as an angel,' [Dean slowly ran his right hand up Castiel's torso, pushing up the soft cotton t-shirt], 'you could control your vessel, go without air, bear extremes of heat and cold, and you just got chomped by a grizzly, Cas.'

'Oh! Oh, I see. You are not necessarily going to be obvious about calling out the names of the targets. I understand now, please continue.'

'There are things you won't be able to control now, like the way your heart pounds,' [Dean spread his hand over Castiel's chest, feeling the heartbeat pick up at his touch], 'when your system is flooded with adrenaline. That will butcher your ability,' [Cas shot the butcher and Dean grinned], 'to keep your hand steady, which will throw off your aim.'

'You'll also jerk with surprise sometimes, if something suddenly leaps out at you, like a wolfman.' As soon as Castiel had oriented on the wolfman target, Dean sharply tweaked a nipple, and his shot went wide. Castiel huffed, annoyed with himself, and settled more firmly into his stance. He was clearly determined to do better, which just made Dean all the more keen to rattle him.

Dean ran his fingers gently over the nipple he'd just abused, making it perk up in interest. He also brought his mouth close to Castiel's nape, so that his warm breath ghosted over the back of his neck as he spoke. 'Nerves can get the better of you, too, when you're hunting something, or it's hunting you. A wolf,' [Cas shot it], 'can move silently through the woods, and even big animals like bears,' [Cas hit it this time], 'can be surprisingly quiet.'

'If we were in the woods right now,' Dean confided in a gruff voice, lips almost brushing Castiel's ear, 'I'd push you up against the nearest ash tree, then go to my knees in front of you, avoiding the chainsaw about to take your head off.'

Castiel growled and shot the madman. Dean groaned and pressed his suddenly hard dick into Cas' ass; a riled-up Castiel was enough to make his own body damnably difficult to control. He brought his left hand up to play with Cas' other nipple, and ran his right hand along the top of Cas' sweatpants, fingers dipping just under the band of elastic.

'You've already experienced the way your body can betray you when it becomes tired, getting progressively slower to react, harder,' [Dean thrust his erection against Castiel], 'to move, more and more demanding of rest. But the things coming after you may not have such needs. Zombies,' [Cas managed to hit the head, but not as cleanly as before], 'don't tire, they just keep coming, like Terminators.'

'Terminators?', Castiel asked in a breathy voice.

'Shit, of course, you wouldn't know; more for the must-see list. Damn, you've got a lot of catching up to do! Actually, those movies are an excellent example of having to fight through pain, fatigue, and fear while trying to survive an opponent that has you massively outclassed. And too many of the things we hunt are insanely faster, stronger, and harder to hurt than we are. That's why we need things like guns, to help level the playing field a little.'

'Too many of them travel in packs, too. Wolves do,' [Castiel shot the wolf, then released the spent magazine and slapped in a new one like he'd been doing it all his life], 'and you never see just one rat,' [the rat took a solid hit]. 'And if there's one zombie,' [which died a clean death], 'there's a dozen. Or a horde.'

'Believe me, you see something like that coming at you, you will feel fear. Nothing wrong with that, you'd have to be an idiot not to, and I know you're courageous, Cas. But now there will be bodily reactions you can no longer suppress - Ash -' [Cas was on the still on the ball, and got the guy; Dean needed to step up his game], 'like shaking hands, weak knees, even a sudden, intense need for a bathroom.'

Dean dipped a hand beneath the waistband of Cas' sweatpants, finding and caressing the warm, hard bulge straining against the underwear beneath. 'Remember the bathroom, Cas? God, I was so hot for you, I could hardly bear it,' [Cas shot the bear, but only after a beat; aha, Dean thought, this was effective as a distraction]. Dean abruptly shoved Cas' sweatpants and underwear down, letting them drop to pool around his ankles. Castiel gasped in surprise, but didn't take his eyes off the targets.

Dean wrapped a hand around Cas' erection, and breathed into his ear, 'After watching you eat that ice cream, I wanted to devour you, like a ravening wolfman,' [Cas managed to shoot it, but didn't hit anything vital]. 'I still want to devour you, all the damn time.' Dean interspersed his words with little nips and licks along the column of Cas' throat. Castiel moaned and his head lolled to the side to give Dean better access, before he remembered himself and straightened again.

'Yeah, Cas, I have to fight the urges of my body whenever I'm around you. I always want to be touching you, tasting you,' [Dean put his mouth to the sweet spot, where neck met shoulder, and sucked hard, pulling a shiver out of Castiel]. 'And your damn voice, shit. I get so hard,' [Dean gave Cas' dick a slow pump, even as he ground his denim-clad erection against Castiel's naked ass], 'listening to you. You've got this built-in growl, like you're a lycanthrope losing out to his wolf.' [Cas shot at the wolf, but hit the bloody arm it carried in its jaws] 'Makes me just want to push you up against the nearest wall and fucking ravish you.'

Castiel's breathing had picked up, and the body Dean was pressed up against was thrumming with tension. 'The more you speak, the more my good intentions get butchered,' [Cas shot the butcher, then hit the release button for the magazine]. 'Bear that in mind,' [Cas slapped in a fresh magazine, and got in a good hit on the bear], 'the next time I just have to have you, for no apparent reason.'  

Dean ran teasing fingers over the length of Castiel's erection, his other hand returning to circle and tug at a pebbled nipple. 'Feel the pleasure sing through your body, Cas? How hard it is to ignore, to keep your attention on the threat? Here it's pleasure, but on a hunt, it's more likely to be pain; we're substituting one for the other, for the sake of this lesson.'

'Say you've taken an injury, maybe Ash', [Cas shot at him, hitting the chainsaw], 'sliced you open, or the wolfman,' [Cas got him in the leg], 'caught you with his claws. Now you're hurt, bleeding, but you can't afford to drop your guard. At first, it won't be so bad; shock will keep you numb. But if you can't take down your opponent quickly, then you're in trouble.'

Dean found a few drops of pre-cum at the tip of Cas' cock, and used his palm to smear it over and around the head. Castiel lost his breath with a grunt, and his arms sagged from the shooting stance. 'Yeah, you'll begin to weaken from blood loss, and the pain will start to grow. It'll chew at you like a rat,' [Cas snapped back to attention, and managed to hit the rat mid-torso], 'scratching at your mind, trying to get you to pay attention. Your body wants you to take care of it, so you don't die. At this point, you have to decide where the greater threat lies. Will you bleed to death if you don't perform some immediate first aid? Or will the cunning wolfman,' [Cas got him], 'leap out of cover and kill you, the minute you look away?'

'Some creatures like to cripple you, waiting until you're down and weakened before they come in for the final attack. Ever seen a wolf,' [Cas hit it in the head this time], 'hamstring a deer? If you can't run, can't even stand, you're much more vulnerable. Imagine being on the ground, maybe with a broken leg, with a roaring, rearing bear,' [Cas shot it in the chest], 'towering over you. You'd better be able to shoot it somewhere vital right off, or you're dead.' Castiel hit the release but missed the catch. The spent magazine clattered to the floor as he fumbled to get the new one in place.

Dean began to jack Cas off in earnest, circling the head of his cock with each stroke, to pick up the natural slick. Castiel moaned, and helplessly thrust into Dean's hand, eyelids fluttering. 'Pain will take over, if you let it. Pay too much attention to it, and you won't even notice the butcher's cleaver,' [Cas fired at him, hitting him on the edge of one arm], 'coming down on you, or the rat,' [Dean bit Cas' earlobe as he aimed, and he outright missed], 'sneaking in to bite you.'

Castiel was panting now, and groaning with each breath. Dean wasn't much better off. His cock, trapped in his jeans, ached and throbbed. Near the head, he could feel the material of his boxer-briefs growing damp. He rutted up against Castiel, unconsciously keeping the same rhythm as his hand on Cas' dick. 'You've gotta keep control, Cas, keep on top of it.' He tweaked a nipple at the same time as he gently bit Castiel's neck, and Cas had to slap his left hand down on the counter, to help hold himself up. 'The wolf,' [Cas aimed one-handed, and tagged the wolf's hindquarters], 'is just waiting for an opening, for you to show weakness.'

Dean sped his motions, and Castiel began to tremble as he fought to stay focused, fought not to come. 'Ash,' [Castiel shakily aimed and hit the edge of the target, but not the actual man], 'won't care that you're hurting, won't give you a minute to collect yourself. And zombies,' [Castiel almost got a head shot, but was too low, catching it in the throat], 'they just keep coming, and coming.' Castiel was gasping now, hips jerking sharply each time Dean used the word come.

Dean pressed his face to the back of Cas' neck, almost triggered into orgasm by the power of his own suggestions. He breathed deeply of Cas' scent, redolent of sweat and sex, and moaned. 'Fuck, Cas, just... _fuck_.' How many shots did he have left? Christ, Dean was losing it, about ready to throw the game. No, lesson, he reminded himself. Survival, important, right. He cheated, getting a glimpse of the ammo window of the pistol wavering in Castiel's unsteady hand. Only one showed yellow, so two? Maybe two more.

'Okay, okay, just gotta hang in there until backup arrives. I'm coming,' [Castiel's hips stuttered, his whole body tensing], 'to help you. Just hold on a little bit longer,' [Dean tightened his grip, and pumped his fist even faster], 'and kill that last rat,' [Cas tried, but the paint splattered at its feet], 'and, ahh, that last zombie.' Castiel took off the top of its head, then dropped the pistol, grabbed the edge of the counter, and let himself go. Bowing back against Dean, his whole body spasmed as come splattered over the wall of the partition in front of him.

'Shit, fuck, _Cas!',_ Dean cried out. He gripped Cas' hips in both hands, and thrust hard against him twice before he too was coming, warmth flooding his jeans. Dean hugged Castiel from behind and they both stood there, panting and weak, waiting for a little strength to return.

Castiel surveyed the blue-splotched targets, seeing how much less accurate he'd been than when he'd been calm and collected, and using the yellow paint. 'Your point is well taken, Dean,' he commented, voice still low and rough. 'Control is much harder to come by, now, and I must be prepared for my body to sometimes react beyond my ability to control. I will not forget.'

'That's all I can ask, Cas. The more familiar you get with your body, the more you'll understand its strengths and weaknesses. You're no more handicapped than any other human Hunter, but you have to fight like one; not like an angel. I just wanted to find a way to help you remember that.' He gave Cas one more loving squeeze, then stepped back.

Castiel pulled up his pants, and turned to find Dean grimacing at the sticky mess in his own. Dean smiled ruefully, 'Hey, I've only got so much control myself, you know. And I seem to lose it frequently around you.' Something relaxed in Castiel's face at that admission, as he realized that Dean really wasn't judging him for being weak. He leaned forward, capturing Dean's lips in a gentle kiss.

Dean almost pulled him into an embrace, but remembered in time that Castiel would be sore today. 'Come on, Cas. I'll come back down and clean up in here later. Right now, I need fresh clothes, and you need to get the bandages off those tattoos.' Castiel nodded, and hand-in-hand, they left the room.

* * *

Castiel opted not to put his shirt back on, letting his new, soft robe hang from his shoulders instead. Dean insisted on showing off his tattoos, pulling him over to where Kevin was studying the angel tablet and Sam was surfing the internet.

'Hey guys, check it!', Dean crowed, reaching around Castiel to pull the left side of his robe back. 'Does Cas look good, or what?'

Sam looked up, noted the placement of the anti-possession tattoo, and smiled. 'Hey, Cas. Better keep that covered up, or you might get recognized as a Winchester.' Dean positively beamed at that.

Kevin leaned in for a better look at the warding sigil. 'Misdirection, obscurement, homogeneity, and indifference?'

'Otherwise known as, _these are not the droids you're looking for'_ , Dean boasted.

'Should do the trick,' Kevin agreed.

'Have you found any reference to the spell used by Metatron?', Castiel asked him.

'Actually, yes! And as far as I can tell, it is reversible, but I can't figure out how.' Kevin looked up at Castiel solemnly, 'The one thing that's clear is that you would be essential, that your Grace must be returned.'

Dean sucked in a breath, suddenly nervous. His gaze shot to Castiel's face, and the bottom dropped out of his stomach when he saw only hope there.

Sam frowned thoughtfully, 'But I thought the spell components were consumed when the spell was cast?'

'Right, which is why it doesn't make sense. Same for the Cupid's bow and the Nephilim's life; there's no getting those back.'

'You're sure it is reversible?'

'If I'm reading this right, but pretty sure, yeah.'

'Well, that's still good news! Solid work, Kev.'

'I agree, this is very encouraging, thank you Kevin. Just knowing that there is a chance my brethren may be returned to Heaven is a great comfort to me.' Castiel turned to Dean, naturally wanting to share his euphoria.

Dean plastered a smile on his face, and tried to be supportive. 'Yeah, great. We don't want them sticking around down here, slowly taking over the homeless population.'

'That's the other thing we found,' Sam broke in. 'It's happening all over, not just in Minneapolis. At first we weren't sure, because the other signs were there, but nobody was finding evidence of blenderized humans sprayed over any more walls. But then Kevin had the bright idea to look for reports of suspicious fires, and then the pattern came together.'

'So, this has been going on all over the States?', Dean asked.

'All over the world.'

'Oh. Shit.' Dean felt even worse. Selfishly, he wanted Castiel to stay human, to stay with him. But countless people were having their lives shanghaied, and if they could do anything to stop that, there was no other moral choice. For the first time in days, Dean wanted a drink.

'No kidding. We really need to figure this out, so if you think of anything...'

'Yeah, yeah, you'll be the first to know. Well, as long as you're still human, Cas, you need to be able to defend yourself. Time for the next phase of your training.' Dean went to fetch the guns and cleaning kits, Castiel trailing along behind.

* * *

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, rock hard in his jeans for the second time today. He knew Sam would make some sort of intellectual observation, like he was horny because he was wanting to renew his claim on Castiel. But being a simple man, he was going to blame the tattoos.

Dean had been getting tantalizing glimpses of them through the gap in Cas' robe, as Castiel concentrated on learning about and cleaning the pistols. Trying to surreptitiously get a better look felt no different to Dean than trying to look down a girl's blouse, without her catching him at it.

As they were finishing up, though, Dean did let his gaze linger too long, and Castiel noticed. To confirm, he leaned forward, letting the robe gape open a bit further. Dean's nostrils flared, and his breathing quickened. Castiel felt a thrill, still unaccustomed to the headiness of sexual power.

He rose to his feet, startling Dean. Coming up behind Dean's chair, Castiel leaned down to whisper in his ear, noting the considerable bulge the table had concealed before. 'If you put these dangerous toys away, I will allow you to admire my tattoos while I ride you.'

Dean gaped up at him, mute with lust. Castiel smiled, murmured, '15 minutes,' then straightened and sauntered off in the direction of Dean's room. Dean pressed the heel of his hand into his crotch, painfully aroused. It was a good few minutes before he calmed enough to leave the chair, and then he rushed to complete his assigned chore.

He was still hard when he walked through the door of his room, to once again find a naked Castiel reclining on his bed. Damn, he was never going to get tired of that! Quickly shedding his own clothes, he moved to join the beautiful man before him. Kneeling between Castiel's spread legs, he crawled forward until he was hovering over Cas. Making sure to maintain separation between their chests, Dean leaned down to kiss him. Castiel smelled faintly of gun oil, which only made Dean burn hotter.

Castiel reached up and cradled Dean's head in his hands, and they stayed like that, exploring each other's mouths, until Dean's arms began to tire. He pushed up, straightening his arms, and Castiel let go of his head so that he might explore the inviting torso above him. He ran his hands along ticklish ribs, making Dean squirm, then plucked teasingly at sensitive nipples.

Dean groaned, arching his back like a pleasured cat. He lowered his hips, so that he could press his aching erection into Cas' abdomen. Castiel rolled his hips upward, pressing an answering hardness into Dean. Then he hissed a little, as Dean accidentally brushed up against the lower of the two tattoos.

Dean immediately retreated, backing away until he was kneeling between Cas' legs once more. Castiel grinned, tossed him the lube, and lay back with his hands behind his head. Dean shook his head at this cocksure Cas, but took his cue, and began the now almost familiar process of working Castiel open.

Before long, he had Castiel moaning, and raising his hips to push Dean's fingers further in. Knowing where to find it now, he rubbed at Cas' prostate, making him shout and buck. Castiel moved his grip to the headboard, desperation growing as Dean played him like an instrument.

When Castiel's moans took on a frenzied note, Dean reached forward with his other hand, and gave Cas' dick a few easy strokes. Pre-come blurted from the head, and Castiel gasped. His hand shot down and gripped Dean's wrist, holding him still. 'Stop, stop! Not yet.' He sat up, pulling away from the fingers impaling him. 'Switch places.'

Castiel moved aside, and Dean lay down in the center of the bed. He quickly rolled on a condom, and applied extra lube. Then he got his hands out of the way, as Castiel threw a leg over his hips, straddling him. Cas grabbed his cock, lined himself up, and slowly sank down on it.

Dean threw his head back, gasping as his dick disappeared into tight, heavenly heat. His hands flew to Castiel's thighs, fingers digging into the taut flesh. When he was fully seated, Cas paused, waiting for Dean to look at him. Then he rocked his hips, just a little, teasing them both.

Now Dean finally got to fully appreciate the vision that was Castiel, flushed and glowing, proudly displaying his new body art. Dean ran his hands reverently along Cas' thighs, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two tattoos. 'They're beautiful, Cas. You're beautiful.'

Pleased, Castiel raised himself up, and slowly sank back down. Dean's gaze dropped lower, to admire the rigid cock jutting proudly out in front of Cas' abdomen. Castiel repeated the motion, a shudder running through him as Dean's dick rubbed slowly past his prostate. His hands reached out blindly, looking for something to hold onto, and Dean gave him his own hands to grasp.

Castiel found a rhythm, though it was one so achingly slow that it made sweat break out all over Dean's body. Cas' eyes had closed, his head lolling on his neck, and Dean fought not to thrust, reluctant to disturb the almost meditative state Castiel seemed to have fallen into. But, feeling his dick swell even more, he knew it wouldn't be long before he broke.

Suddenly, Castiel trembled, eyes popping open as he drew a sharp breath. Then he sat down on Dean hard, a series of whimpers breaking past his lips as his cock jerked, pumping jets of white into the air. Dean stared, incredibly turned on by Cas coming untouched, his hands held tight in Dean's.

Then, feeling Castiel clamp down on him, it became too much for Dean. He let go of Cas' hands to grab at his hips, and then he was thrusting up, hard and fast, chanting Cas' name. Seconds later, he arched hard, lifting Castiel off the bed as his own orgasm ripped through him.

Castiel wilted forward, rolling to his right until he was off of Dean and lying on his back beside him. His right hand groped for Dean's left, then they lay for a timeless period, holding hands and basking in the afterglow.

They spent the evening cuddled up, munching popcorn and letting The Doctor deal with the big, Bad Wolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not what I originally intended, when I thought about teaching Cas to shoot. But, when I came across pictures of Darkotic targets, I just had to find a way to use them. 
> 
> When I was writing this, I didn't know the dimensions of the firing range in the bunker. I read somewhere that common range shooting distances are between 5 yards (15 feet) and 33 yards (99 feet). I assumed the latter, although I've since seen a picture that suggests that the actual bunker range length is more likely the former. But hey, this is already an AU, right? So, just go with it.
> 
> The gun I imagined them using is the Tippmann TiPX .68 Caliber Paintball Pistol. No, I've never used one, so please forgive any inaccuracies. I do a little research, but most of what I write is a product of imagination and guesswork. But then, given that I'm a woman producing M/M slash fiction, I figure you already knew that. ;)
> 
> When I reread the chapter, I noticed that Dean and Cas seem to have wanted to be holding hands a lot. I attribute this to the closeness they feel after their experiences the previous day; now they just want to be in constant physical contact.


	9. 5-Alarm Trenchcoat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alarms go off in the bunker, and the guys have a new mystery to investigate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm jumping forward a few weeks, partly so Cas' tattoos have a chance to fully heal, and partly so that events out in the world are given a chance to move forward. Kevin, Sam, and Castiel have spent the time working on their pet project, making the Men of Letters knowledge more readily accessible, catalogued in their new computers. Kevin also puts in a few hours a day, working to translate the angel tablet.
> 
> Dean has been amusing himself setting up paintball targets in the woods, and continuing to explore the many rooms of the bunker. He often waylays Castiel, dragging him off to christen each one. Having walked in on them more than once, Sam and Kevin have learned to listen carefully and call out before entering a room. [I may write a couple of one-off stories playing with this, later.]
> 
> Castiel has also continued with his training, learning the limits of his human body. Having to keep in shape now, he goes running with Sam, lifts weights with Dean, and does a little yoga to maintain flexibility. He's becoming comfortable firing a gun, and can hold his own, sparring with Sam and Dean. He's ready to get some field experience as a human Hunter.

A little after one on a dull, rainy afternoon, the quiet of the bunker was once again shattered by blaring alarms. Dropping whatever they were doing, everyone rushed to the war room, only to stop and stare at the big map table. Scarlet pinpoints of light were appearing all over it, hundreds of them.

'Ooh, man,' Kevin moaned. 'That's what it looked like when the angels fell! Something big is going down.'

Dean, remembering what a seriously rattled Kevin had told him when they'd returned to the bunker that day, suddenly sprang for the stairs. Charging to the top, he flung open the outer door, just as the alarms cut off and the bunker went into lockdown. Thick bolts shot out of the doorway, meant for the slots in the heavy metal door. He'd just barely prevented them from being locked in. The last time this had happened, they'd reversed the the lockdown by using the key to get in - from the outside.

'Quick thinking, Dean,' Sam praised when his brother rejoined them. 'We really need to find a user manual for the systems in this place. Cas, have you come across anything like that?'

'Not as yet, Sam. But I will make it a priority.'

'So, we have no way of knowing what these lights mean?', Dean asked.

'Presumably there is a way to get more information, but we don't know how,' Sam replied. 'All this tells us for now is the rough location of whatever events have registered as significant to the Men of Letters threat detection system.'

'We need to check out one of these sites, but the scale of this map is too large. We need a way to narrow it down.'

'Kevin's got a program monitoring police channels. If any of this affects the mundane world, we should be hearing about it pretty soon.'

'Alright, then let's suit up. We can be ready to go when we get the word.'

Catching Dean's eye, Sam flicked a glance at Castiel, silently asking if he'd be coming along. They'd agreed that he was ready to begin hunting, but this was no routine salt-and-burn. They had no idea what they'd be walking into.

Dean thought furiously. He didn't want to take Castiel into a dangerous, unknown situation, especially when there was a good chance that angels were involved. But he knew that his warrior angel would want to come, would insist that his knowledge could be vital. And Dean certainly knew what it was like to feel responsible for a fucked-up situation, the driving need to do everything in your power to fix it.

'Cas, will your warding hold up if an angel is looking right at you? I mean, pretty much everyone knows what you look like, right? You weren't exactly subtle during your Godstiel phase.' Castiel gave him a slightly hurt look, and Dean felt like a heel for bringing that up.

'Most would think I look somewhat familiar, but without realizing how they know me. The warding should hold for a time; the longer the exposure, the less effective the suggestion will become. Those who know me personally would recognize me, of course. But the odds of encountering one such...'

Dean held up a hand, 'Never tell me the odds.' Sam snorted in amusement, making Castiel do the head-tilty thing Dean hadn't seen in awhile. He felt a small pang; his angel was becoming worldly. And shit, how had he not shown Cas Star Wars yet? Good thing Charlie wasn't here, she'd have his hide over such a glaring omission in Cas' education.

'Shall I be accompanying you and Sam then, Dean?'

'Yeah, okay Cas. Time to break out your shiny new suit. Come on, let's go change.'

* * *

Castiel went to his room, which he pretty much only used to store his clothes, and Dean went to don his own monkey suit. A short time later, clad in his FBI guise, he knocked on Cas' door and, without waiting for a response, let himself in. Castiel was, predictably, struggling with his tie. Dean would have gone over to help him with that, but his feet were bolted to the floor. Because, _fuck!_ Cas in that suit? He was smokin' hot, and Dean was suddenly on fire.

'Jesus, Cas,' he croaked out, and Castiel looked at him quizzically. Between the dark hair and darker clothes, his blue eyes stood out even more. The well-cut suit emphasized the elegant lines of his slender frame, making him look like he belonged in a James Bond film. Hell, Pierce Brosnan hadn't pulled off a suit that well. Daniel Craig... well, maybe... Nope. As far as he was concerned, Cas had them all beat.

'What is it, Dean?' Castiel had, of course, seen Dean in a suit on numerous occasions, so while he appreciated the fine sight before him, he wasn't tripping over his own tongue. Until, that is, his admiring once-over halted at the evidence of Dean's arousal, gaze catching on the bulge straining the fabric of his trousers.

Dean groaned, feeling his cock throb under Castiel's heated stare. He hoped the emergency situation could take care of itself a little longer, because there was no way he could go out like this. Even if he could convince his raging boner that now was not the time, he knew it'd come roaring right back anytime he looked at Cas. So, okay. They'd just have to be quick.

Decision made, Dean strode to Castiel, and caught him up in a rough embrace. He aggressively thrust his tongue into Cas' mouth, grinding up against him in a desperate search for friction. Castiel moaned and gripped Dean's head in his hands, holding him in place while he deepened the kiss.

'Do me, Cas,' Dean panted, suddenly wanting to be taken. Castiel growled with eagerness, and need shivered over Dean's skin. He broke away, and moving as quickly as possible, loosened his tie, lost the jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, and discarded his pants and shoes. Castiel started to shrug out of his jacket, but Dean stopped him. 'Leave the suit on. I want to see you in it, want to watch you fuck me.'

Dean sat on the bed, and leaned back on his elbows. Castiel was digging in the bedside table, which was fortunately as well stocked as the one in his own bedroom. At this point, they had stuff stashed all over the place. 'Give me one of those, Cas,' Dean demanded, and rolled on a condom; they couldn't afford to get jizz on these clothes.

Returning to stand between Dean's spread legs, Castiel reached for his belt. With slow, deliberate movements, he popped the button of his dress pants and drew down the zipper. Dean's mouth actually watered when Cas reached into black boxer briefs and drew out his hard cock.

Castiel gave himself a couple of absent-minded strokes, staring down at Dean with the intentness that never failed to raise the fine hairs on the back of Dean's neck. Looking up at the heart-stoppingly gorgeous man standing over him, Dean shivered with pure, unadulterated _want_.

Forgetting about his own pleasure for the moment, Cas lifted one of Dean's legs, hiking it over his hip. Dean nearly moaned at the feel of the material, warm from Cas' body, rubbing against his naked leg. Pouring a careful, just-enough amount of lube on his fingers, Castiel reached down and began a slow invasion of Dean's body.

With a pleasured cry, Dean let his arms collapse, falling onto his back on the bed. Unable to reach Castiel, but needing something to hold, he gripped handfuls of the comforter on which he lay. Before long, Castiel had him panting and near writhing with the intense sensations. Rolling his hips up forced the fingers in his ass deeper, and he groaned, his need for more rapidly growing.

'Come on, Cas, we're on the clock here. Just get in me already.' The knowledge that they could be interrupted at any moment was only adding to Dean's arousal. This felt deliciously naughty, the burden of responsibility shrugged aside in favor of a few stolen moments of selfish pleasure.

Withdrawing his fingers, Castiel pushed down his trousers and quickly prepped himself, then pressed the blunt head of his cock up against Dean's hole. He eased forward, breaching Dean so slowly and gently that Dean shocked himself by voicing a needy whimper. 'Cas, please,' he whispered, lungs constricted by the tension that was winding ever more tightly through his body.

With a gasp that proved he was as affected as Dean, Castiel sank all the way home. His head dropping forward, he paused a moment, eyes closing as he fought off the overwhelming urge to rut with mindless greed, pounding ever harder and faster into the willing body beneath him until they both exploded. Not wanting things to be over quite that quickly, he remained still, fighting for control, restraint.

Dean was having none of it. 'Cas, goddammit, _move!'_   He clenched hard around Castiel's cock, making the other man throw his head back with a moan. Castiel looked down at Dean with eyes gone dark, his face set in determination. Pulling Dean's leg up over his shoulder, he gripped the strong, bare thigh with both hands. Using it for leverage, he pulled back, then thrust forward with a powerful roll of his hips.

'Yes!', Dean shouted, finally getting what he needed. Castiel set a strong, steady pace, his eyes never leaving Dean's. 'Oh god, Cas, that's so good, so good,' Dean babbled, trying his best to keep looking at Cas when his eyes wanted to roll back in his head. Castiel shifted his grip, moving a hand to where Dean's leg bent at the hip, and increased both the speed and power of his thrusts.

Dean howled as the new angle caused Cas' cock to repeatedly impact his prostate. He bucked and writhed, his dress shirt bunching up beneath him. 'Ah, ah, yes! _Harder_ , Cas! Fuck me like you mean it!'

Breathing hard, Castiel tucked his chin down, and did exactly as Dean asked. He pulled back, paused, then absolutely rammed himself into Dean. He pulled back slowly, then slammed home again, and again, and again, forcing grunts out of Dean with the power of each thrust.

Mouth hanging open, Dean gaped at Castiel, thrilled on a primitive level by the show of force. He was reminded of Castiel at his most powerful, the Angel-of-the-Lord prepared to bring down the wrath of Heaven on the god-forsaken. Castiel might currently lack the ability to smite, but he was having no trouble reducing Dean to a quivering puddle of goo.

Castiel was sweating now, starting to shake, and having trouble keeping to a rhythm. Abruptly, he switched from long, hard thrusts to short, rapid ones. A high, keening noise rose in his throat as desperation grew, his body rushing toward orgasm.

Oh god, there was nothing Dean liked better than to see Cas like this, poised on the edge, every muscle straining toward completion. Feeling Cas' hot, hard member pushing pleasure through him in rapid waves, he caved to the demands of his neglected dick, and began to jack himself off. He'd been closer than he'd realized, for he barely got in two solid strokes before he was arching off the bed, yelling wordlessly as come exploded into the confines of the condom.

Castiel choked as Dean clamped down hard on his dick, his fingers gripping Dean's leg with bruising force. His hips stuttered briefly before snapping forward in a few last, hard, uncontrolled thrusts. 'Ahhhh, Dean, _Dean!'_ , Castiel cried out, lost in the throes of his climax.

Overcome with sudden weakness in the wake of his orgasm, Castiel stumbled back, pulling free of Dean's body with a liquid squelch. Dean's leg fell from his shoulder, but that wasn't enough to jar Dean out of his blissful haze. Pulling his pants up just enough to allow him to walk, Castiel backed the rest of the way to the bathroom. There, he carefully disposed of the used condom and cleaned his hands, without getting his nice new suit soiled.

Dean let himself enjoy a state of profound relaxation for a few more moments, before dragging himself upright with a groan. The back of his shirt was a wrinkled mess, but fortunately that would be hidden by his jacket. You couldn't impersonate an FBI agent without looking neatly put together.

Dean was mostly dressed when Castiel emerged from the bathroom, lacking only the jacket and tie. Dean smiled fondly at Cas, 'C'mere gorgeous.' Castiel went to him eagerly, and Dean drew him in for a long, sensual kiss. Drawing back, Dean rested his forehead against Castiel's for a moment, 'I'm never going to be able to get enough of you, am I?'

The question was rhetorical, but Castiel answered anyway, 'That is as well, for I am certain that I shall always want you. I love you, Dean.'

Dean beamed at him, still finding it overwhelming to hear that. 'I love you too, Cas.' He kissed him again, then busied himself with fussing over the fine points of Castiel's appearance. He straightened his tie, and smoothed the hair his fingers had just mussed. Stepping back, he gave Cas a once-over. 'You'll do, G-man.'

Castiel looked confused, so Dean explained, 'Government agent, Cas, FBI guy. You look the part. Got your ID?'

'Yes, Dean. I am ready.'

'Okay, let's go find out if Kevin's turned up anything yet.'

* * *

Kevin had, and they'd been waiting for Dean and Castiel. Sam visually threw Dean a 'Really?' and Dean smirked back a 'What?'  Sam rolled his eyes, but even he had to admit that Castiel was looking damn good, so he let it go. Better they got it out of their systems anyway, so he didn't have to choke on all the UST, while trapped in the car with them.

The rain had let up by the time they left, but the air was still heavy with moisture. The site where a suspicious death had been reported was uncomfortably close to the bunker, and within twenty minutes, they were at the scene. A corpse lay at the side of a quiet, backcountry dirt road, near the stop sign of an intersection. A fresh-faced young officer let them past the line of yellow tape, then retreated to his patrol car to make a phone call.

Sam crouched by the body, which was intact save for burned-out eyes. The sight was nothing new to the Winchester brothers, they'd seen Castiel leave similar remains in his wake. 'Clearly the work of an angel, but why smite this guy? And why would killing what was presumably a demon set off alarms at the bunker? Anything look out of the ordinary here, to you Cas?'

'No, Sam. Perhaps this incident is not related?'

Retreating back past the yellow line, they moved a little ways down the road to where they wouldn't be overheard while they discussed it further. They hadn't had a chance to even begin to speculate though, before the irate figure of a man stormed up to them.

' _You!',_ Crowley snarled, stalking toward Castiel, 'You're the one responsible for this fucking fiasco!'

Reaching for his knife, Dean stepped in front of Castiel and put up a warding hand. 'Lay off, Crowley. Cas hasn't done anything to you.'

'The hell he hasn't! Thanks to him and his buddy Metatron, there's a plague of angels littering the landscape, and they're mucking with my guys! Do you know how many I lost today alone? _Scores!_ My best recruiters among them.'

'What? You've got angels ganking your goons?' Dean couldn't help the smirk in his voice.

'Lying in fucking wait, as a matter of fact. It was a coordinated attack. At the same moment, all over the world, hundreds of mortals summoned a crossroads demon. A goddamned guardian angel was standing by each of them, and as soon as my guys showed up, they made with the smiting.'

Dean grinned, picturing it. 'A sudden mass call-out didn't seem a little suspicious?'

'It might have, if everyone wasn't so distracted by the quality of the bait laid out. Somehow those feathered fucks found the most deliciously desperate souls to cry out to us for aid. They represented every known sin, at the darkest end of the spectrum. How did they even find such a smorgasbord of supplicants?'

Castiel closed his eyes in pain, realizing how his brethren had misused their powers, 'Angels can hear prayers. Those that bargain with the dark powers most often do so only after their prayers have gone unanswered.'

Sam looked from Cas to Crowley, then summed it up, 'So, the angels hand-picked a bunch of humans, then suckered you in with a precisely timed mass summoning, presumably coordinated via angel radio?'

Crowley threw his hands in the air, and began to pace in agitated circles. 'Oh, of course! Bloody bollocks!! My ranks are decimated. I'm going to have to institute training programs! And the newbs are going to be scared shitless to go topside. I'll have to send a hellhound with each of them, with orders to turn on our own if they pussy out. This is the last thing I need, with Abaddon breathing down my neck.'

Crowley stopped short, realizing what he'd just said. 'Abaddon. This is exactly the sort of ploy she'd love to be able to pull off. Ooh, that _bitch!_ She's made a _deal_ with whoever's running the show on the side of the angels, I can just _smell_ it.' Hands raised into claws wrapped around an imaginary neck, Crowley vanished.

Sam blinked. 'Well, that was illuminating.'

'Yeah, now we know what Lailah meant, when she called in last week,' Dean agreed.

'Right! She told us angels were being instructed by Bartholomew to act as guardians, being assigned charges. It seemed harmless enough, just angels being given something angelic to do.'

'It would not have been easy, to shadow humans in order to watch over them,' Castiel put in. 'Presumably my siblings can still remain unperceived if they so wish, but without functioning wings, they would be restricted in their movements.'

Dean couldn't help grinning at the mental picture that popped up, of a frustrated angel forced to hail a cab in order to follow his charge home from the office.

'But they weren't there to help those people,' Sam continued in a thoughtful voice. 'They were, if anything, whispering into their minds, feeding their despair and planting the suggestion to solve their problems by calling up a crossroads demon.'

'Why would angels work with a demon?', Dean wondered out loud. Looking at Sam, he didn't see Castiel wince.

'They got to take out a large number of demons today,' Sam answered. 'I guess they thought it was worth dealing with one, in order to smite many?'

This time, Dean noticed Castiel's stricken expression. Oh crap, this was hitting entirely too close to home for the former angel, and for the second time today he'd put his foot in his mouth. 'Shit, I'm an asshole.' Dean took a step forward with the intent to hug, before remembering their guise as FBI agents. 'Sorry, Cas. You okay?', he asked, trying to convey apology and comfort with the tone of his voice.

Blue eyes liquid with remorse met his, 'It seems I have set a terrible example, Dean. The power I gained in dealing with Crowley must have seemed greatly attractive to some, despite the terrible price.'

'Angels are an arrogant bunch. I'm sure this Bartholomew prick figured he could do better than you did, and come out on top of the deal.'

'It is doubtful that what we have seen here covers the extent of that bargain. A one-time chance to kill demons would not have been sufficient incentive.'

'What do you think would be sufficient incentive, Cas?', Sam asked.

'We cannot know how many demons are allied with Abaddon, but she is almost certainly not working alone. Through Lailah we learned that the Host is forming into opposing ranks. If these factions go to war, the side with a demonic assist could well hope to win. We have already seen that Bartholomew is willing to aid Abaddon in her bid to overthrow Crowley.'

'Fuck, angels and demons, fighting together?' Dean threw his hands in the air and started to pace. 'This just gets better and better.'

'What can we do about it?', Sam asked.

Castiel spoke firmly, 'We must try to warn the leader of the opposing faction. Perhaps he can be persuaded to avoid a confrontation with Bartholomew's forces, to work instead toward breaking the unholy alliance.'

'We don't even know who that is, much less how to find him. Or her.'

Castiel's shoulders slumped. 'I know. I feel so helpless.'

No longer caring what it looked like, Dean put an arm around Castiel's shoulders. 'We'll figure something out, we always do. Let's go home.'

* * *

They discussed it through dinner and into the evening, but came no closer to finding a solution. Eventually, Dean declared he'd had enough, and took a stressed-out Castiel back to his room, determined to fuck the worries right out of his head. But it was Dean that ended up relaxed and snoring, while Castiel lay staring at the ceiling. Restless, but not wanting to disturb Dean, he slipped out and went to his room to shower.

Castiel had just pulled back the curtain to step into the tub when alarms blared through the bunker again. Quickly turning off the water, he grabbed the first thing from his closet that would cover him, and ran toward the war room.

Dean bolted upright, heart slamming in his chest. Alarms were going off, and Castiel was no longer by his side. Not liking that at all, he shot out of bed, yanked on his discarded jeans, and was out the door in seconds.

Dean, Sam, and Castiel all arrived at the war room within moments of each other, to find a red-faced Kevin holding up his hands in a placating gesture. 'My bad, guys, sorry! I was poking around, trying to get more info, and somehow set it off again.' Even as he spoke, the alarms died, and the metallic clunks of lockdown echoed through the bunker. Kevin smiled sheepishly at Dean, 'Good thing you found out that the key works from the inside too, huh?'

Dean pushed a hand through his hair, adrenaline still fizzing in his blood. 'What the hell were you looking for, I thought we'd talked this to death already?'

'Primarily, that.' Kevin pointed to a number displayed just below the legend of the map displayed on the war room table. It glowed the same red color as the dots on the map that showed the locations of the demon smitings. The number was 1313.

'That wasn't there before,' Sam observed. 'It represents the number of sites shown, related to the, uh, crisis?'

'I think so, yeah. I was fiddling with the console in the corner, and I don't know what I did to make it appear. But it's what I wanted to know. There's been something niggling at the back of my mind all day, something I read in one of the tablets, but I can't put my finger on it. I think the number of demons killed at once is important in some way, and that's why it registered as an Event.'

'Wait, you don't think this is part of another ritual, or spell?', Dean asked, alarmed.

Kevin was not reassuring, 'It could be. I've read a lot about those recently, looking for ways to reverse the one Metatron cast. I might've read something in passing, that wasn't relevant at the time. I'm gonna have to go back and try to find it, but there's a lot of information and this isn't much to go on. It will probably take awhile,' he sighed. He was never not going to have to keep his nose buried in those damn tablets, it seemed.

'Why didn't you say something before?'

'I didn't want to worry anyone, if the number wasn't high enough. I'm pretty sure it had to be over 1,000.'

'Aaand, of course, it is.' Sarcasm was heavy in Dean's voice, '1,313 even, nothing ominous about _that_ number.'

Sam gave Kevin's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, 'You don't have to keep things to yourself, Kevin. We're family, you can come to us if something's bothering you.'

Kevin cast a wary glance at Castiel and Dean, not trusting that they'd go easy on him if they felt he was the key to important information. But he smiled up at Sam, 'Sure. I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Sam.'

Sam clapped the kid on the back, nearly knocking him over. 'Great. I think we've had enough excitement for one day. Want to wind down with a couple episodes of Game of Thrones before bed?'

Reminded that Castiel hadn't been in his bed when he awoke, Dean looked for his lover. Castiel had been standing quietly by the staircase the entire time, simply observing. What he was wearing was so familiar to Dean that it hadn't even registered, but now he became aware that things were different. Castiel was wearing his trenchcoat, but it was buttoned up instead of hanging loosely open, and below the hem of the coat, his legs and feet were bare.

'Cas,' Dean's voice was careful and controlled, like he was speaking to a man with his finger on the trigger mechanism of a bomb. 'What do you have on underneath the coat?'

'Nothing.' He stated it as a simple fact, unaware that it would matter to anyone.

Dean stood staring at Castiel, frozen. Then, still in that same carefully controlled voice, he addressed his brother. 'Sam, you have until the count of 5.'

Sam looked at Dean's body, poised to leap, his face predator-intent, and realized that his brother was about to combust. He grabbed Kevin's shoulder again, spun him around, and pushed him in the direction of the lovely, soundproof bedrooms. 'Come on, Kev. We do NOT want to see what happens next.'

Dean had been with Castiel twice today already, but at the moment he felt as if he'd never had him at all. Seeing Cas in that coat, he was transported back to the man he'd been these past years; so close to Castiel, yearning for him, but lacking permission to touch, lacking his own permission to even want. He felt again the great weight of the craving that had built within him, no less powerful for being unacknowledged.

Like a jonesing junkie suddenly presented with his drug of choice, Dean burned with a white-hot need. Knowing Castiel was naked under the trenchcoat... God! That was doing it for him in ways he couldn't even believe. He was barely keeping his knees from giving out. Lost in staring at Cas, he'd forgotten to count, but no longer cared whether he'd given the others enough time to get out of the room.

'Cas, undo the coat,' he commanded, his voice so low and husky that Castiel's eyes went wide. Slowly, his hands rose, undoing the belt, then releasing the buttons one by one. Dean's heart rate shot through the roof, as the coat parted to frame a naked, hard, _gorgeous_ Castiel. Dean scanned Cas from head to foot, wanting to burn that image into his brain for all time.

Suddenly fearing that this was too good to be real, was in fact only another fevered fantasy, he lurched forward, desperate to touch. Stopping just before he would have come into full-frontal contact with Castiel, he reached with trembling fingers for his jaw, breath shuddering out with relief when he encountered a hint of stubble accenting smooth, warm skin. Cas turned his head slightly, nestling his cheek into Dean's palm.

'God, Cas, you have no idea, do you? I've had so many fantasies about you, and every damn one of them starts with you in this trenchcoat. I've imagined taking it off you a hundred times, trying to picture what you looked like underneath.' Dean slid his other hand into the gap in the coat, running it down Castiel's side to rest on his hip. 'The reality is so much better than I imagined.'

Dean moved his hand from Cas' jaw to the back of his head, and drew him into a kiss. Castiel's arms rose to wrap around his shoulders, making the coat gape wide. Dean moved that little bit forward to bring them flush against each other, gasping at the shock of Cas' heated flesh against his own naked chest. He was suddenly conscious of how constricted his hard-on was in his jeans, and how much of a barrier the dense material was between them.

Dean stepped back, breaking Castiel's embrace. He pulled the belt of the trenchcoat from its loops, and gently pushed Cas back against the side of the staircase. 'Raise your arms,' he ordered gently, and Castiel did not hesitate to obey. Dean ran up a few steps, and taking hold of Cas' wrists from above, used the belt to tie them to the wrought-iron framework.

Coming back down, he walked to the far end of the map table, looking past the length of it to appreciate the vision before him. Castiel stood midway between two dark pillars, arms bound above his head, coat open as if to offer up the flesh beneath to Dean's hungry gaze.

Dean looked his fill as he shucked his jeans, pausing only to run hopeful fingers through the pockets. Gratitude filled him when his fingers encountered a small packet of lube, because he wasn't sure he had the strength to leave Cas right now. No condom, though. Oh well, he knew Cas had no objection to barebacking, and right now, the idea of being inside Cas, with nothing between them, was incendiary.  

Dean walked around the table, and leaving the packet of lube on it for the moment, he went to explore the best present life had ever given him. Castiel watched him approach, his gaze devouring Dean in turn. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips, and Dean's hard-on jumped in a Pavlovian response.

Both men groaned at the renewed skin contact, and at the welcome pressure where it was most needed, as Dean rubbed up against Castiel once more. Dean put his arms around Cas, feeling the distinct lack of bulk beneath the coat. It slid easily against Castiel's flesh, bunching in Dean's fists when he clutched at the material over the small of the back. Opening his hands, he rubbed the coat over Cas' ass, warming it with the friction.

Castiel hummed approval, and rolled his hips forward, grinding his erection into Dean. Dean pressed back, while mouthing along Castiel jaw, then down along his neck. Castiel moaned and sagged a little in his bonds as Dean sucked and nibbled at the spots he now knew were most sensitive.

Raising his hands to mid-back, Dean hung onto the coat for balance as he continued to kiss his way downward, nuzzling the coat aside to get at Castiel's nipples. Cas stood straighter as he pushed his chest toward's Dean's mouth, eager for more of his warm, arousing tongue, and even the occasional teasing tug of teeth.

When he had Cas whimpering and starting to sweat, Dean went to his knees, sliding his hands down the back of coat-covered thighs. Settling back on his heels, Dean paused to look up at Castiel, because damn, definitely another mental Kodak moment. He was never going to need Busty Asian Beauties again, not with imagery like this in his spank bank.

Using his fingernails, Dean dragged the coat over the backs of Castiel's knees, making them buckle briefly before Cas righted himself. 'Dean, that tickles!', Castiel gasped, trying to writhe away from his touch. Dean allowed it, drawing his hands down until they reached the hem of the coat at mid-calf, then moving them back up underneath it, kneading at the bare flesh.

Not willing to wait any longer, Dean took Castiel's hard length in hand, and sank his mouth down over it. 'Haaah,' Cas breathed, his whole body leaning toward Dean, every muscle tensed. Dean pulled up, applying strong suction, then took Cas in again, as deeply as he could. 'Oooh yesss!'

Dean could feel Castiel getting harder in his mouth, and soon he was making different little cries for each move Dean made. He'd catch his breath with a gasping noise when Dean sucked his way up the shaft, and lose it with a wheezy moan as Dean sank back down. Rolling his tongue around the head elicited desperate whimpers, and tonguing the slit caused Cas to make a noise in his throat that sounded like a strangled scream.

When Cas' hips began to buck uncontrollably, and his cries rose high and desperate, Dean cruelly stopped and backed away. He stood, gripping his own leaking cock tightly around the base to keep himself from coming at the sight of Castiel moaning and writhing, tugging helplessly at his bonds.

'Dean, why did you stop?! I was so close, please, _please_ , let me come. Ahhh, I need to!' Castiel threw his head back, thrusting into empty air, the coat billowing around him with the movement. Dean moaned and gripped himself harder, sweat breaking out all over as he fought his own desperate need to come.

Looking away only long enough to locate what he needed, Dean found the packet of lube, and spread half the contents over his straining cock. Then, stepping forward, Dean took Castiel by the shoulders and turned him to face the stairs. He pulled the coat upward until the firm, round globes of Castiel's ass were exposed. Holding the coat bunched in the small of Cas' back with one hand, Dean reached between the cheeks with slick, searching fingers.

When Dean probed at Cas' entrance, Castiel groaned and pushed back impatiently. Dean found to his immense pleasure that Cas was still loose and slick from their earlier activity; damn near proof that there _was_ a god. Overcome with sudden greed, Dean lined himself up and with no further warning, thrust himself deep. He nearly screamed at the overwhelming sensation, as Cas' tight, wet heat enveloped the full length of his bare dick.

Castiel keened and arched back against Dean, rising up on his toes. 'Okay, Cas?', Dean asked, and couldn't help but huff out a laugh when Cas yelled out, ' _God_ , yes!' Taking hold of perfect hipbones, Dean leaned back and began a hard, driving rhythm. Castiel, stretching his arms to the limit, leaned forward so that he could push his hips back at Dean.

The sound of flesh slapping wetly against flesh, along with the grunts and cries of ecstasy, echoed through the cavernous room. Castiel was getting close again, Dean could tell. Unlike Dean, he had no difficulty coming from prostate stimulation alone. Dean was working up to a tremendous release himself, but he still wanted more, harder and faster than he could achieve as they were.

Steeling himself against the temporary loss of Cas' tight heat, Dean slowed his thrusts, then pulled out altogether. Castiel let out a cry that sounded more like rage than disappointment, and Dean was glad that he was still restrained in that moment. 'Hang on, Cas, just want to change position,' Dean panted. Reaching above their heads, he freed Castiel's wrists, then stumbled back as Cas immediately twisted in his arms and attacked, mouth and body.

Regaining his equilibrium, Dean let Castiel ravish him for a minute, then took back control. Swinging them around, he used the momentum to turn Cas away from him and push him up against the map table. With a hand between the shoulder blades, he indicated to Cas that he should bend over it.

Putting his hands flat on the coloured surface, Castiel once more obeyed. Dean used what was left of the packet of lube on himself, then pushed the trenchcoat up over Castiel's ass. Not wasting any time, he drove himself home, eliciting a joyful 'Dean!' from Castiel. Now able to really put some power into it, Dean rammed himself repeatedly into his lover.

Gathering up a double handful of trenchcoat, Dean pulled on it for leverage, the pressure on his shoulders making Castiel arch his back. The new angle clearly worked for him, as his cries of pleasure turned to near screams at every thrust. Electricity racing through his system, each incredible sound and sensation lighting him up further, Dean was verging on overload.

Trembling and sweating, Dean thrust even faster, completely letting himself go. 'Ahhh, Cas! I can't hold on, it's too good, I'm... _Ahhh_ , **AHH**!' Dean bowed back, every muscle locked and vision whiting out as he came incredibly hard, hot come spurting deep into Castiel.

Castiel screamed at the sensation and convulsed, painting the table with long, white stripes of come. Limbs collapsing, he fell back into Dean, who, weak with his own orgasm, couldn't hold him. Together they fell to the floor, Dean controlling it just enough to prevent a hard landing. Dean cradled Castiel, keeping as much of him as possible from contact with the cold floor, and pressed grateful kisses into his hair.

'You're incredible, Cas. I love you so much.'

Still loopy, Castiel snuggled into him. 'Hmm, me too. You,' he murmured, barely coherent.

Dean smiled and hugged him close, waiting for enough strength to return so that he could take his angel to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really enjoyed this week's episode of Supernatural; lots of good Destiel moments! But, one thing really bugged me - Cas' new trenchcoat. At the start of the season, I was hurt by the way the original was abandoned in that washing machine. It was practically a part of Cas, there from the beginning, and so sweetly kept by Dean when Cas was feared dead. After all that, it did not deserve to come to such an ignoble end! 
> 
> And then, for the show to put Cas back in a trenchcoat... Well, yay! But wait, something's not right, that's not HIS coat! It's too short, doesn't billow around his legs when he walks, no blue tie... Castiel looks both more right and yet WRONG, everything's just slightly off, and it's messing with me! I loved Cas' old look, and I want them to bring it back! Who's with me?


	10. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of Heaven's Gates being closed are revealed to be even more dire than they'd imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More plot than porn this time around, sorry folks! 
> 
> FYI, in my version of the bunker, the guys have a rec room. It has a large, cushy couch, a couple of big, overstuffed armchairs, a TV, DVD player, and a game console. An old record player sits on a table in the corner. A bookshelf holds records, games and DVDs, as well as a few secondhand paperback novels.
> 
> Warning: spoilers for Doctor Who episode 1x13: The Parting of the Ways

Kevin was near to nodding off, eyes blurring from the strain of sifting through the vast amount of information on the tablets. He was thinking about taking a break, just about to look away, when the number he'd been searching for caught his eye. Suddenly alert, he read rapidly, appalled at what he found. 'Oh, shit. SHIT!'

Sam, working companionably nearby on his laptop, looked up, alarmed. 'What? What's wrong?'

'Get Dean and Castiel, they're gonna want to hear this.'

Sam didn't bother to get up, just leaned back in his chair and yelled, 'DEAN!'

An answering 'What?' echoed back from one of the many corridors.

'Eureka!', Sam called back, their code for significant data in need of discussion. Within moments, Dean and Castiel were settling into chairs at the library table.

'What's up?', Dean asked. 'You got something, Kev?'

'Yeah, I found it. There is a spell that calls for the death of 1,000 demons.' He paused for dramatic effect, 'It also calls for the death of 1,000 angels.'

Castiel drew a shocked breath, 'Are you certain, Kevin?'

Dean whistled, 'That's a lot of power, what the hell does it do?'

Kevin answered Dean, 'It allows a demon to possess an angel.'

That put Sam and Dean back in their chairs; Castiel sat as still as stone. It didn't take more than a moment to reach the obvious conclusion. Sam voiced it for them all, 'Abaddon. She means to possess Metatron.'

Castiel's voice was grim, 'And thereby gain access to Heaven.'

Dean finished it off, 'Where there are no other angels right now, nothing to prevent her from absorbing every human soul, and becoming an evil god.'

Silence descended again, the implications of that too dire to be relieved by swearing.

'That... can't happen.' Sam put his elbows on the table, and pushed his hands through his hair. 'That much power, combined with all of Metatron's knowledge; she'd be unstoppable.'

'And we're the only ones who know what's really going on.' Dean leaned forward, intent. 'The deal she made with Bartholomew, it's not so she can become Queen of Hell, she's trying to incite a war. Angels aren't exactly easy to kill. Ganking 1,000 of them is one hell of a tall order. Easiest way to get it done, is to get them to kill each other.'

'We've got to get word to the other leader, tell him not to engage Bartholomew's forces, no matter what. Cas, what if we were to send the information out in the form of prayer? As a sort of public announcement?'

'You would get the message across, yes. But Sam, you would also draw the attention of every angel who heard you, and they would immediately converge on your location.'

'Meaning we'd have about the same life expectancy as a marching band in a zombie apocalypse, crap. Okay, what else have we got? Kevin, have you made any further progress in figuring out how to reverse Metatron's spell?'

'A little. I do know that, to undo the spell, things have to be done in reverse order. Castiel's Grace was taken as the final step, so that's where we'd need to start.'

'I thought we established that Cas' Grace was gone, consumed? So how can he get it back?'

'I think I'm getting a better handle on the way Metatron phrases things. It's not _the angel's Grace must be restored to him_ , it's _Grace must be restored unto the angel_.'

Dean's eyebrows rose, 'So, like, Grace from another angel? I once saw Anna's Grace held in a vial. Are there maybe other vials of unused Grace around someplace? Cas, do you know of anything like that?'

Castiel frowned, 'Removing an angel's Grace is something that has been done only a few times in our history, as it is an act of extreme violence. It is akin to the forcible removal of a human's soul, the worst kind of rape.'

Dean sucked in a pained breath; this had happened to Cas. He hadn't realized just how traumatic, how _painful_ it must have been. Castiel had coped so well with becoming human, Dean hadn't paid enough attention to what the actual transition must have been like. He reached over and twined his fingers with Castiel's, garnering a grateful look from Cas.

'But you're not like Sam was, when he was soulless?'

'No, when my Grace was removed, I was essentially reborn as a human. I have a soul now.'

'Did Anna have a soul? What happened when she got her Grace back?'

'The Grace would have slowly destroyed it.'

'Jesus, is that going to happen to you? If you get Graced again, you lose your soul?'

'Yes, that is likely the case.'

'The hell! You can't tell me you're okay with that, Cas!'

'I was created as an angel, Dean. It is my natural state of being.'

'But... Will it change you?' He liked Cas as he was now. Would he still be able to love Dean the same way, without a soul?

'I prefer to believe that it would not. However, I have never had a soul before, so I cannot truly say.'

'Shit. I am so not liking this plan.'

'But Cas, don't angels in vessels have Grace and souls residing together? Why would one destroy the other?', Sam wanted to know.

'An angel can protect the soul of a human, keeping it safely cocooned away from the burn of Grace. However, it is not possible to separate from one's own soul, in order to keep it from one's own Grace.'

'Oh. Yeah, I guess I can see that. When Anna lost her Grace, it was because she removed it herself, right?'

'Yes, though the process would have been no less agonizing for being self-inflicted. She must have wished very much to fall.'

'Have there been other angels who've done the same, but didn't go back? Would the vials of their Grace still be stored somewhere?'

'That may be, but chances are very high that they are being kept in a safe place, in Heaven. We would have no way of retrieving any.'

'Damn. Step one, and we've already hit a stone wall. Might as well tell us the rest, Kevin. Assuming we did find a way to get Cas re-Graced, then what?'

'Acquiring the Cupid's Bow was the 2nd step. I'm thinking that, in taking the bow from the Cupid, Castiel kept her from bringing the gift of love to others. I'm not as clear on the translation of this piece of the spell reversal, though. The way I'm reading it is that Castiel must receive the gift of love.'

'Doesn't he already have that? Dean loves him,' Sam pointed out.

Kevin squirmed a little, 'The sigil I've translated as _gift_ can also be interpreted as _sacrifice_.'

'Whoa, hold the phone! Are you saying that Cas has to _sacrifice_ his _love?_ You better not be talking about me!'

Castiel had an absolutely mutinous look on his face, 'That will NOT happen, Dean. If that is the price required to reverse this spell, then it will not be paid. I _refuse_.'

'Nobody's going to ask that of you, Cas,' Sam assured him. 'I'm sure there's another way to interpret this. What about the last step, Kevin?'

Kevin didn't look any happier about having to discuss that. 'Ah, well... Since Castiel took the life of a Nephilim, he, um, he has to give life to one.'

Once again, silence fell around the table. Then Dean exploded, ' _What?!_ Cas has get some chick knocked up?'

'Or, take a female vessel?', Kevin offered apologetically.

'If I were to leave this vessel, it would die. Jimmy is no longer resident to provide the essential life force.'

'Fuck, I can't believe we're even talking about this!' Dean's voice was thunderous, 'Cas is not changing vessels and he is not boning anybody else.'

Sam grinned, getting a kick out of Dean's jealous reaction. 'You'd rather we find a witch to cast a sex-change spell on you?', he teased.

Dean glared, 'Not funny, Sam.'

Sam didn't lose his grin, 'It's a little funny. But okay, I get it. What if he were to donate sperm? Would that work?'

Castiel shook his head, 'Grace must be shared between the partners at the time of conception, if a Nephilim is to be created.'

'You can do that? Share Grace with a human?'

'For a brief period, but it is not recommended. It can be very dangerous for the human, even those special few who are able to withstand the sight of our true forms.'

'Why do it then?'

Castiel gazed steadily at Sam, 'If you could immerse yourself in your lover's soul, at the same time as you shared their body, would you not be tempted?'

Sam gulped, sobered. He glanced sidelong at Dean, thinking that he'd be just dumb enough to try something like that, if Cas got his Grace back. Good thing Castiel was responsible enough for the both of them, he'd never do anything that might hurt Dean.

'So, ultimately, we're no further ahead on this front. What else can we try?'

'We need to get the word out about the angel war, while remaining anonymous, right?', Kevin asked. 'Why not use the internet? And the Supernatural fandom? Who else is more likely to believe that angels walk among us?'

Dean stared at him, 'Kevin, you're a frickin' genius.' He turned to smirk at his brother, 'Becky's always been sweet on you, Sam. Plus, she owes you one for that time she roofied you into marriage. I bet you'd only have to ask, and she'd contact all her little freaky friends and have a nice gab-fest.'

Sam groaned, but pulled the laptop toward himself. 'She'll write fan fiction, you know she will. Abaddon's Evil Plan to Conquer the Universe, or some such.'

'All the better, the rabid fans love that stuff. And then they talk about it ad nauseum on Tumblr and Twitter and every other damn thing.' Dean grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Sam, 'Bet she gives you a starring role.'

'Shut up, Dean.' Sam rapidly typed up a synopsis of the situation, and fired off an email to Becky. Within moments, he had a reply that was so enthused he could practically hear it squeal. He sighed. 'She's in. And she's promising to surround the message with so much hot, steamy sex, that everyone will want to read it.'

Dean snorted with amusement. 'If your ears start turning red for no reason, we'll know why.'

Sam pulled up one of the more popular fan fiction sites, and did a few quick searches. A slow, evil grin stretched his lips, 'Sorry, Dean. According to what's trending, she's gonna write Destiel smut.'

Kevin laughed himself sick at the look on Dean's face.

* * *

That afternoon, the stress induced by Kevin's findings caused everyone to look for something physical to do, to blow off steam. Sam and Castiel went for a run, and Kevin joined Dean in the gym for awhile. The Men of Letters facility was old, the equipment antiquated, but weights don't lose their effectiveness with age. The heavy bag was also still just as useful, and that's how Dean vented his frustration, pummelling it until he could barely move.

Dinner was a quiet affair, no one feeling much like talking. Continuing the TV marathons seemed like the best choice for the evening, so Kevin joined Sam in his room for Game of Thrones, and Dean and Cas settled in the rec room for more Doctor Who.

It wasn't long though, before Dean was questioning the wisdom of that course of action. The episode they were watching was the last featuring the 9th Doctor, and Dean had forgotten just what had triggered him into regeneration. He felt a chill as the door of the Tardis opened, and Rose stepped out in a wash of Grace-like energy.

Cool and remote, her eyes glowing with power, she stood unafraid before the Dalek threat, having easily blocked their attempt to kill her. Kneeling at her feet, the Doctor pleaded with her, begging her to stop what she was doing before she destroyed herself. Dean was uncomfortably reminded of the crypt, and his own efforts to break through to a distant and single-minded Castiel. Next to him on the couch, Cas had gone rigid with tension.

Wanting her Doctor safe, Rose did not heed his pleas. In a god-like exercise of power, she destroyed the entire Dalek fleet, scattering their molecules to the cosmic winds. Having dealt death, she also brought life, restoring it to Captain Jack Harkness. Drunk with the power, she did not want to release it, and the Doctor was consumed with guilt. It was going to kill her, and it was his fault. He'd gotten her into this.

Rising to his feet, the Doctor took her into his arms. With a tender kiss, he drew the time vortex energy from her, taking it into his own body. She swooned, and he laid her gently down. Then radiant light flowed out of him, as he returned the vortex energy to the place it belonged, the heart of the Tardis.

When Rose awakened, back on board the Tardis, all seemed well. But the Doctor was not okay; all the cells of his body were dying, destroyed by the excessive amount of energy he'd absorbed. He barely had time to bid her farewell, before regeneration was upon him, and he was transformed. Shocked, she could only stare as her Doctor was replaced by a stranger.

Too disturbed to want to watch anymore, Dean turned off the TV. If he thought the light being drawn out of Rose looked like Grace, he couldn't imagine how Castiel was feeling right now. Shit, Dean was an idiot, showing him this; might as well watch The Accused with a recent rape victim.

'You haven't talked about it,' Dean said softly, not looking at Cas. He wasn't sure that this was the time for intense eye contact. 'What it was like to lose your Grace.'

Castiel sighed and leaned toward him. Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tucked him close. 'It is not something easily put into words. The very essence of my being was ripped away, and I was left raw and empty. My first day as a human, I was scarcely aware of the world around me, barely able to stay on my feet. I knew only that I had to keep moving, I had to get away. And I was cold, so very cold; that was new.'

'You were probably in shock. It would have been instinctive to run, after being attacked like that.'

'It was a great shock, yes. For quite some time, I felt very little. Then the numbness suddenly went away, and in its place was a terrible anger. Enraged, I could think of little else beyond killing Metatron. After the anger came numerous other emotions, overwhelming waves of grief and guilt and remorse. I did not know what to do, so I just kept walking.'

Tears in his eyes, Dean pressed a kiss to Castiel's temple. 'And then you called me?'

'When all those emotions had burned themselves out, I was so tired, empty and alone. There was only one desire in me, to be with you. I needed you, and you came. I was very grateful, Dean. I still am.'

'Shit, Cas. You wouldn't even be in this mess if it weren't for me. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me.'

'I could never hate you, Dean. I love you.'

'We're gonna figure out a way to get you your mojo back, Cas.' Dean drew a deep breath, steeling himself to make the offer he'd been agonizing over all afternoon. 'And when we do, I won't stand in your way, if you need to be with someone else in order to unlock Heaven's Gates.'

Castiel put a hand to Dean's jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes. 'You wish me to share my Grace with another, to create a Nephilim?'

'I don't _want_ you to, but if that's what it takes, I'll deal with it. Just, come back to me after, okay?'

'I will not be doing that. Even if I were willing, I simply cannot.'

'What? Why not?'

Cas looked at him like he was slow, 'Dean, combining one's Grace with another's soul, it is an act of profound intimacy. It is perhaps the closest two beings can come to becoming one. Do you imagine that it would be possible for me to do that with someone I did not love?'

His insides a confused welter of emotion, Dean tried to make light of it. 'So, you wouldn't be able to get your Grace up for it, is that what you're saying?'

To his surprise, Cas nodded, 'Correct in essence, if not in form. I would not be able to bring myself to reach for the other. Such a connection can no more be forced than love itself.'

Now Dean knew what he felt: relieved and guilty. No way in hell did he want Cas to be with anyone else, but that made it Dean's fault that Cas wouldn't be able to fulfill the terms of the spell reversal. He couldn't help not being female, yet he felt irrationally inadequate as a partner, his inability to provide Cas with a child a weird sort of personal failure.

Dean dropped his gaze, 'I'm sorry, Cas. Being with me is fucking up your chance to put things right.'

'Do not apologize, Dean. This situation is entirely of my doing. I was the one who went along with Metatron's plans, I killed the Nephilim. It is through my actions that the angels were banished from Heaven, leaving all its souls unguarded. By rights, you should be incensed with me, for the danger your departed loved ones are in.'

In a sudden move, Castiel sat up, swung a leg over and sat straddling Dean's thighs. Taking Dean's face in his hands, he got Dean to meet his eyes once more. 'I wish more than anything to atone for my mistakes, to, as you say, clean up my mess. But know this: I do not, and will not ever, regret my love for you. It is holy to me.'

Dean gulped. Coming from a former angel, that was really saying something. What the hell made Cas think he was worthy of a love like that? He was never going to understand it, but couldn't help the deep feelings of love, gratitude, and appreciation that swept through him anyway. Choking on the swell of emotion, all he could do was hug Castiel to him, and put everything he was feeling into a kiss.

Castiel moaned, and melted into him. Arms wrapped around Dean's shoulders, Cas lost himself in the warm wonder of Dean's mouth, the gentle fierceness of his embrace. Here was home, and salvation. Here, he belonged.

Dean felt Castiel's breath hitch, and wondered what was going through his mind. Hugging him tighter, he sought to drive the demons out, by leaving no room within for anything but overwhelming pleasure. Castiel slid further down his thighs, and Dean groaned at the feel of Castiel's erection pressing into his belly.

Sliding his hands under Castiel's t-shirt, he pushed it upward. Cas got the hint, and sat back long enough for Dean to remove it. He tugged at the material of Dean's shirt, and Dean eagerly shrugged his way free, keen to enjoy skin-to-skin contact. Cas dove back into kissing him, and Dean reveled in it, running his hands over Castiel's naked back.

Castiel had donned a loose and comfortable pair of sweatpants after his shower, and dipping his hands below the waistband, Dean was delighted to find that he hadn't bothered with underwear. He pressed admiring fingers into the firm flesh of Castiel's superior ass, kneading the large muscles.

Castiel shivered with increased arousal, and sat back so that he could press his hips forward, grinding his pelvis against Dean's. Dean hissed, partly in pleasure and partly in pain, his own hard length trapped at an awkward angle in his jeans. He pushed at Castiel's hips. 'Off, Cas. Naked. Now.'

Reluctantly, Castiel pushed back and stood, immediately bending to push his pants down and off. Then he knelt before Dean, removing his shoes and socks while Dean undid the fastenings of his pants. Dean lifted his hips, and Castiel pulled his jeans and underwear off in one smooth move. Sighing with relief as his cock sprang free, Dean gave it a couple of soothing strokes of apology for constricting it so.

Castiel was about to climb back into his lap when Dean gestured toward the corner of the room. The small table on which the record player sat had a drawer in it, and it held one of their stockpiles. 'Don't forget the lube, Cas.'

Castiel turned and hurried to fetch it, giving Dean a fine sight to appreciate. He decided that he must convince Cas to walk around naked whenever they were alone, even if it left him with a perpetual boner. Because damn, beauty like that should be on display.

When he returned, Castiel's eyes were drawn to Dean's fist around his cock, and his pupils widened. He tossed what he held onto the couch and, pushing Dean's knees wide, knelt between them. Batting Dean's hand away, he replaced it with his own, then bent to take Dean into his mouth.

Dean gasped and sank back into the cushions, watching transfixed as his cock disappeared between Castiel's lips. Castiel took him deep, then sucked his way up. As he sank down again, Dean groaned at having to resist the urge to thrust up to meet him. He flung his arms wide, grabbing at the material of the couch to keep himself from pushing at Castiel's head.

Dean would have been happy to enjoy Cas' ever-increasing cocksucking skills for as long as he could hold out against them, but that evidently wasn't what Cas had in mind for tonight. Once he had Dean achingly hard, Castiel rolled a condom down his length, then crawled up until he was once again straddling Dean's hips.

Cas handed Dean the lube, then hovered above him on his knees, waiting. Dean smiled at the silent demand, and obligingly poured cool gel over his fingers. After rubbing them together to warm them, he reached one hand between Castiel's spread legs, feeling for the ring of puckered flesh; the other he wrapped around Cas' erection.

Castiel's breath shuddered out as he arched his back, pushing his cock into Dean's loose fist. Then he canted his hips back, to press himself against the fingers probing at his hole. He put his hands on Dean's shoulders to balance himself, and let his head loll back, exposing the long line of his throat.

Dean let Cas set the pace, only pushing his fingers inward when Cas pressed back against them. Castiel's breathing picked up, and a flush spread over his chest. The small noises he was making grew more frequent, and louder, as Dean penetrated deeper into his body. Dean crooked his fingers, seeking Cas' prostate. He knew he'd found it when Cas' head fell forward, and he whimpered and jerked, his body unable to choose between thrusting forward and pushing back.

Panting, Castiel rose higher on his knees, pulling away from both of Dean's hands. Dean quickly spread more lube over his eager dick, then held it in position for Castiel. Cas reached a hand down to help guide himself, holding Dean's gaze as he sank slowly down onto his erection.

Dean lost all the air in his lungs as Cas' tight heat engulfed him. His hands flew to Castiel's hips, helping to steady him. 'Oh god, Cas,' he groaned. 'Love you so much. _Never_ let you go.'

' _Dean_ ,' Cas breathed, leaning forward to briefly press his forehead to Dean's. He shifted his hands from Dean's shoulders to the back of the couch, gaining better leverage. Then, fully seated, he rolled his hips, grinding his pelvis into Dean's. He pulled up a little ways, then circled his hips again coming down, crying out as Dean's cock rubbed over his prostate.

Dean's dick pulsed at the erotic sound, and he felt himself grow even harder. His heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest, and he breathed deeply, searching for control. He concentrated on the beautiful man slowly riding him, reaching up to run his hands over taut, sweat-slick flesh.

Castiel's steady motion faltered when Dean's hands began to tease his nipples. He tried to find his rhythm again, but Dean tugged and tweaked, and he trembled and twitched. Gasping out the most delightful noises Dean had ever heard, Castiel was rapidly coming apart. Losing his ability to keep to a slow pace, Cas moved with increasing speed, until he was rising up and slamming down as fast as he could move his hips.

Unable to resist, Dean grabbed hold of Cas' bobbing dick, making him yell out in pleasure. Timing it to coincide with Castiel's thrusts, he stroked and pulled, and a rising, desperate whine let him know how much Castiel liked it.

'Dean, oh fuck, _fuck_ , YES!!' Losing control over his legs, Castiel dropped down onto Dean one final time, back bowing as he shot his load into the air between them. Dean somehow managed to hold off his own orgasm long enough to stroke him through it, though he shuddered and gasped at the way Cas clenched and pulsed in ecstasy.

Then, giving in to the desperate demands of his body, Dean surged up to hold onto Castiel.  Hips pumping as much as they could beneath Cas' weight, he thrust rapidly for the few strokes it took for pleasure to overwhelm him. Burying his face in Cas' neck, he hugged him tight as his body convulsed. Castiel ran gentle hands through his hair and down his back, helping him to calm once the storm had passed.

Dean flopped back, relaxing into the couch. He drew Cas down with him, cradling him against his chest. 'Heh, it's a good thing Chuck isn't around anymore. If he pulled that pervy voyeur crap on you and me, I would be obliged to hunt him down and end him.'

Castiel yawned and snuggled into him, 'We are good together. We would have given your fans something to talk about.'

'Yeah? Well, they can kiss my ass.'

Cas smiled lazily, 'No, they may not. Your ass, along with the rest of you, is entirely mine.'


	11. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hunt goes badly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my usual style, but hey, it wouldn't be Supernatural without some angst, right?
> 
> Warning: mild depiction of torture and death

'Put your back into it, Cas.' Dean smirked down at the sweaty former angel, then had to dodge as Cas lobbed the next shovelful of grave dirt at him. He laughed, 'C'mon, you can't call yourself a Hunter until you've done a salt-and-burn, man. It's like a rite of passage, Hunter 101.'

Castiel paused to glare up at the two relaxed and amused men, who were just lounging around watching him do all the work. He took his hands off the shovel one at a time, flexing the tension from them and ruefully noting the forming blisters. He'd never realized what sheer physical work it was, to open up a grave. His whole body ached, and he wanted nothing more than the soft bed he should have been enjoying at this hour of the night.

Sam looked away as Cas dug back in, his attention drawn by a flicker of light in the window of the nearby building. 'I thought you checked the church, Dean?'

Dean followed his gaze, frowning as he saw more lights go on inside, 'I did, it was locked up tight when we got here. Who the hell needs to pray at oh-dark-thirty?'

'Someone who clearly hasn't gotten the memo that this church isn't the healthiest place to be right now.' Both men stiffened at the sound of a sudden crash from within, followed by a thin scream.

'Shit! Sam, switch with Cas, you'll get there faster.' Dean reached down to Castiel, giving him a hand up out of the hole. 'We'll try to keep the spirit from killing anyone in the meantime.'

Sam jumped down, grabbing the shovel Castiel had abandoned. Putting well-practiced muscles to work, he began to rapidly dig as Dean and Cas ran for the church.

Shotgun at the ready and Cas tight on his heels, Dean burst through the now open doors only to slam to a stop at the sight before him. The air was alive with flying objects, prayer and hymn books, candles and wrought-iron holders, and collection plates whizzing about like silver frisbees.

There was a lone man cowering at the base of the altar, arms raised to protect his head. He was babbling something, which became more intelligible as Dean and Castiel approached up the aisle. The prayers for salvation became a litany of thanks as they took up a protective stance before him.

Cas held a crowbar like a bat, knocking away any books or other flying objects that came too close. Dean was prepared to shoot, but as the spirit chose not to manifest itself, he lacked a target. They stood amidst the maelstrom, hoping that Sam wouldn't take too long to complete his task.

Suddenly, the eyes of the man at their feet got even wider, and he clutched frantically at Cas' pantleg. 'My lord Castiel? It is you, isn't it? Come personally to protect your humble servant? I am beyond grateful, Lord Castiel!'

Dean knocked a knee into the guy's shoulder, 'Shut the hell up, man! He's NOT God, got it? There might have been a little confusion there for awhile, but it was all a misunderstanding, okay? Stop using his name, who the hell knows who's listening in, all the praying you've been doing!'

Cringing away from him, the man went back to clutching at the altar instead of Cas, but although he'd gone silent, Dean would bet good money that he was still praying non-stop. Son of a bitch was gonna get them caught!

Finally, all the objects whirling through the air dropped abruptly to the ground, and Dean knew their job was done. 'That's it, we're outta here. Come on, Cas!' They sprinted for the car, but came to an abrupt halt upon finding three people calmly awaiting them on the outer steps.

Dean raised the shotgun in a vain hope of backing them off; if these were angels, he might as well be holding a squirt gun. His heart sank at the confirmation, when one stepped forward and with an ugly smile said, 'Hello, Castiel. We've been hoping for a chance to speak with you.'

Dean thought about making a break for it, even knowing that there was no way they could outrun these guys. But even half-formed thoughts of escape were dropped when he saw Sam being escorted out of the cemetary by another two men. Great. Now all that remained was to find out which faction of angels had them in its power.

* * *

Dean was separated from Castiel, shoved into the backseat of a second car with Sam. Throughout the short ride, he had to keep reminding himself to breathe, fear that at any moment the cars would go in different directions a vise around his chest.

They reached their destination, a warehouse in a quiet, industrial area, in less than 15 minutes. Well, that explained how these guys had reached them so quickly, they already had a base in the area. Unfortunately, all attempts to engage their captors in conversation had been met with stony silence, so Sam and Dean were taken into the large building none the wiser.

Any hope of reasonable, civilized conversation went out the window when they were brought to a room with shackles hanging against the dark, stained walls. Dean struggled for the sake of form, but had no more chance of resisting the steely hands of his captor than he had of freeing himself from the cold metal restraints they pushed him into.

Castiel, Sam, and Dean were quietly and efficiently chained, shackled at both wrist and ankle, arms held above their heads. Dean and Castiel hung facing one another, with Sam up against the wall to Dean's right. Once they were secured, all but two of the angels left the room. The rather ordinary-looking fellow clasped his hands behind his back and strolled over to stand in front of Castiel. The other one, a hulking bruiser-type, stood silently by the door, eyes flicking coldly from one prisoner to another.

'Greetings, Castiel. My name is Malik,' the first angel said in a light, conversational tone. Castiel stared back at him, face impassive. 'We've never met, but there is not an angel alive who is unaware of your exploits. Your infamy has only grown with each successive feat, and this latest one, well. Let's just say you have our attention.'

'What do you want, Malik?', Castiel asked.

'Me? Oh, this isn't about what I want. Our leader has made it very clear that he wishes to talk to you, and since we were the ones to find you, I will be acting as his representative. He'd come himself, but he's not interested in waiting any longer to get some answers, and thanks to you, he _can't fly_.'

Cas ignored that, focusing in on the one part he was interested in, 'Who is your leader?'

'Malachi.' Dean sagged a little in his chains at that, because maybe now they had a chance. He was pretty sure they'd have been fucked if these had turned out to be Bartholomew's people. And hey, they'd actually been wanting to talk to the leader of the other faction, so silver lining? If the guy could be reasoned with, that is.

'Malachi,' Cas repeated, sounding vastly unimpressed. 'Really?'

Malik glared at Castiel, 'He stepped up, took charge, and we were glad to have someone providing some direction. You know, given all the confusion that results from being forcibly _expelled_ from your _home_.' Dean stiffened up again, because yeah, this guy was _pissed_. 'Why, Castiel? Why did you do such a terrible thing?'

Castiel looked down at the floor, then met Malik's eyes again. 'It was not my intention, I assure you. I was misled. Yes, I sought to close the Gates of Heaven, but Metatron told me that all angels would be locked inside, not cast out. I would not have helped him, had I known. He betrayed me, stole my Grace to complete his spell.'

'Yes, I noticed your shiny new soul the minute I saw you. Rumor has it that it was your reward for helping Metatron, that you preferred life down here amongst the rodents to being constantly surrounded by those you'd failed.'

Now Cas looked disturbed, 'It wasn't like that. I was trying to help!'

Malik stood still and quiet for a moment. Dean assumed he was getting instructions via angel radio, because he abruptly changed the direction of his questioning. 'Tell me more about the spell. How is it undone?'

Castiel tried to change the direction of the conversation, too. 'The spell is not our most immediate concern. Inform Malachi that he must under no circumstance engage Bartholomew's forces; to do so would be playing into the hands of a demon.'

Malik looked amused. 'Are you seriously attempting to get me to believe in that silly little fiction?' Dean's heart sank. It looked as if their attempt to get the word out had succeeded, but the means may have backfired on them.

'You must be aware of all the demons that Bartholomew's army has killed of late.'

'Oh yes, such an odd thing for angels to be doing. Very suspicious, I agree.' Sarcasm positively dripped from the guy's voice.

'Abaddon has all the demon deaths she requires for her spell. What she needs now is the death of as many angels.'

'Angels are quite hard to kill, Castiel. Although, you've managed to bring about the death of a great many of us, haven't you? Whether by your own hand, the wars you've started, or by burning off their wings.'

'What?' Castiel's eyes widened in dismay. 'Angels died in the Fall?'

Malik scoffed, 'Did you think all were able to withstand such grievous injuries? Any angel already weak or hurt stood little chance of healing, after the infliction of so much additional damage. You probably killed some of the few friends you still had. Sophia? Azrael?'

Cas made a small, pained noise. 'I deeply regret their deaths. Again, it was never my intention...'

'Actions are what matter, Castiel, and yours have condemned you.' He manifested his blade, and pressed the shiny silver tip against Cas' chest. 'Now, tell me about the spell.'

'You can't hurt him!', Dean blurted. 'He's tied to it, you can't reverse it without him.'

Malik looked at him with a raised brow, 'Oh, is that right? It seems you know a thing or two, how about you fill us in on the details.' He glanced at the angel by the door, and motioned with his head toward Dean. The big guy brought out his own blade, and walked on over.

Dean pressed his lips together in a stubborn line. Telling these guys what little they knew wouldn't gain them anything, and he had a prophet to protect. He stared defiantly at the angel who would no doubt soon be trying to persuade him to talk.

'Theo,' was all Malik said. Theo took his cue, and in few deft motions, sliced Dean's shirts to ribbons, exposing his chest.

'You can't hurt him, either! He's also essential to reversing the spell,' Cas said urgently.

Malik gave him a pitying look, 'You really don't have a high opinion of my intelligence, do you? But, it seems you have a soft spot for this one. Good. Tell me what I want to know,' he looked around, meeting both Sam and Dean's eyes, 'any of you, and Theo will stop.'

Right now, Theo was just getting started. He trailed his blade almost casually down Dean's chest, the thin but deep cut immediately beginning to bleed. Other cuts soon followed, in a pattern that made no sense to Dean, but seemed to please Theo. It fucking hurt, but Dean had spent hard time in Hell; this amateurish effort wouldn't be enough to break him. He looked away from the almost hypnotic motions of the blade, to see how the others were taking it.

Castiel was standing rigidly straight, face expressionless, but his eyes were blazing. If looks could kill, Theo would be a smoking hole in the ground. Sam had a deep frown on his face, and his muscles strained as he tested the strength of his bonds. Unfortunately, he wasn't making any headway in breaking free. Malik was looking back and forth between Dean and Castiel, clearly satisfied with the way things were going.

Half an hour later, Dean was hanging limp in his chains, weak with blood loss, and Malik had lost all patience. 'It seems you aren't taking me seriously, Castiel. I'm willing to bet that you know everything he does, which makes him superfluous. Start talking, and you may yet save one of your pets. Theo.'

'No, WAIT!', Cas yelled, lunging forward and brought up hard by the chains. Theo had his orders, though, and Dean didn't even have a chance to say goodbye before that red-painted blade was buried in his heart.

* * *

Dean blinked back into awareness to find himself staring into blue eyes, but not the ones he'd been held in when the lights went out. These were a pale, icy blue, as pure and clear as the heart of a glacier. A second blink brought the rest of the face into focus, its haunting beauty clearly Nordic in origin. He could almost picture a winged helm nestled over those flowing, golden locks. 

'Wrong pantheon, sweetheart. I'm supposed to get a Reaper, not a Valkyrie.'

The confusion that flooded those baby blues was so familiar that Dean was jolted into the realization that this was another angel, and that she must have healed him. She freed one of his wrists, then handed him the key and moved to check on the other prisoners. Dean's eyes caught on the bodies on the floor; both his tormentors had angel blade-sized holes in them.

Looking around, he saw the mystery woman freeing a seemingly unharmed Cas, and a still strung-up but healthy looking Sam was beaming at him. He smiled back, 'Hey, Sammy. Miss me?'

'Bout time you woke up. This habit you've developed of sleeping on the job, Dean, really. We're going to have to talk about this.'

Dean snorted, 'Why shouldn't I have a little nap, when you've clearly got everything under control?' He got the last shackle off, and went to see if the key would work on Sam's as well. It did, and as soon as he was freed, Sam shrugged out of his overshirt. Dean gratefully used it to replace the bloody tatters of his own, then they went to join the conversation between Cas and their rescuer.

Cas turned to face them, 'Dean, Sam, this is Ezekiel, a soldier from my garrison and a trusted ally. She heard your prayers for your brother, Sam, and came to investigate.' Her crystal blue eyes moved to Sam, and he blushed under their regard. 'When she recognized me, she intervened on our behalf.'

'We must leave quickly, before my actions are discovered.' Her voice was as cool as the rest of her, her calm unruffled by the precariousness of their situation. 'Come, I will take you back to your car.' She turned and led the way out of the room. As they followed, Dean and Sam each snatched up one of the silver blades lying forgotten on the floor. Dean was keeping the one used on him. He'd earned it, dammit.

Dean's appreciation of Castiel's friend grew as he watched her casually dispatch the two guards in the hallway, barely pausing in her stride as she ran them through. Only one of them reacted quickly enough to even get his weapon out, but at least Cas was now armed, too.

Sam squeezed his tall frame into the front seat of Ezekiel's older model Toyota Corolla. Dean and Cas jumped in the back, Castiel immediately reaching for Dean's hand and giving him an intense once-over.

'I'm fine, Cas. Don't worry.' Dean leaned over and gave him a quick, hard kiss. Cas opened his mouth to say something, but was thrown back in his seat as the car cornered sharply. Dean checked behind them, but they weren't being followed. 'Ease up, Zeke, we're in the clear.'

The woman met his eyes in the rear-view mirror, 'Please address me by the name of my vessel, Kaia Byrant. I have been told that my own name is not gender-appropriate.'

'Doesn't that get confusing?', Sam asked.

'No, she is not with me. She accepted me in hopes that I could save her family, with whom she'd been in a car accident. But while she'd lain unconscious for some time, badly hurt, they'd been killed instantly. When she learned that it was too late for me to aid them, she asked to be released to join them in Heaven, giving me leave to heal and keep her body thereafter. I acceded to her wishes.'

Being one to always fight for life, Dean wanted to argue that, but Sam was looking pleased so he let it pass. 'Thanks, by the way, for healing me. Thought I was a goner for a minute there.' Castiel's hand tightened almost painfully around his, but he didn't say anything.

'Do you know of Abaddon's plans, her deal with Bartholomew?', Sam asked her.

'I am aware, yes. I believe Malachi is foolish to disdain the warning, simply because of its origins.'

'Actually, it originated with us. We're the ones who leaked it to the Supernatural community.'

'And you came by this information how?'

'We'd prefer to keep our source confidential, but you have my word that the intel is reliable.'

'You have Castiel's trust, so I am willing to believe you. How may I be of assistance?'

Castiel asked, 'What is your place in Malachi's ranks? Will he heed your counsel?'

'I am a trusted commander, but he has already refused all arguments that would endanger his plans to overthrow Bartholomew. He means to fight, regardless of consequence.'

'Will you remain in place, and warn us of his moves? Assuming you can return safely.'

'None who saw me come to your aid remain alive, and they did not succeed in raising an alarm. I may return without fear, and yes, I will do as you ask.' She pulled into the church parking lot, and Dean's heart lifted to see his Baby. He'd come close to never driving her again, and suddenly yearned to feel her powerful rumble vibrate through his bones.

They piled out of one car and into the other, Sam pausing long enough to give Ezekiel/Kaia his phone number. She drove off, and they headed for home.

* * *

Castiel was out of the Impala almost before it had stopped moving, and he promptly disappeared into the bunker without so much as a glance at Dean. Dean stood by the driver's side door, staring after him with a WTF expression on his face.

Sam noticed, and came around to grip his shoulder reassuringly. 'Go easy with him, Dean. He kinda freaked, earlier.'

Dean looked searchingly at Sam, 'Whadda ya mean, freaked?'

'While you were... gone, Cas tried really hard to get to you. Like shredded his wrists, broke his thumb getting a hand free, out of his mind hard.' Sam swallowed, remembering. He didn't ever want to see that kind of anguish again.

'Shit,' Dean whispered, looking in the direction Cas had gone. Dean hadn't seen any evidence of such injuries, Eze... Kaia must have healed them before he'd had the chance.

'He probably needs some time to process. Not being able to reach you, or help you, that had to be super hard for him. If Kaia hadn't shown up...' Sam took a deep breath, and pulled his brother into his arms. He'd seen Dean die over and over, thanks to the Trickster, but it never got any easier. 'Thank god she did.'

Dean hugged his brother back, a lump growing in his throat at how tightly Sam was holding him. To help them both recover their equilibrium, he gave Sam's back a couple of manly thumps, and pulled away to grin cheekily at him. 'Guess Fate's not done dicking with me yet, huh?'

Sam groaned and pointed a finger at him warningly, 'Don't even joke! She'll take it as a personal challenge or something, and then where will we be?'

Dean laughed, and headed for the bunker door, 'Look at our lives! What makes you think she's not already doing her worst?'

* * *

Dean breezed into his room, 'Hey Cas, you in h...' His words cut off with a grunt, air forced out of his lungs as he was body-slammed into the inner side of the door. Cas pressed hard against him, capturing his mouth in a furious kiss. Dean moaned and went boneless at the show of force. He loved it when Cas got all aggressive.

And Castiel was currently a force to be reckoned with, manhandling Dean as he wrestled him out of his clothes. Dean let him have his way, allowed himself to be pushed and pulled about. He got it now. He'd scared Cas, and Cas needed to feel like he had some degree of control. If it made him feel better, Dean was happy to play along.

Both of them now naked, Cas turned Dean away from him, pushing him back into the wall. Dean closed his eyes and pressed his cheek to the hard surface, losing himself in the feel of the hot, hard body that crowded up against him. Nosing at that spot behind the ear that made him shiver, Cas tugged him back just far enough to get his hands between Dean's body and the wall.

One hand on his cock and the other roughly tugging at his nipples, Castiel demanded Dean's response. Dean's body, primed by the brush with death, leaped with eagerness under his touch. Pushing his butt back against the heated iron of Cas' erection, Dean panted and groaned, fighting to hold on as Cas drove him rapidly toward release.

When Dean threw his head back and drew a heaving breath, about to shout out his orgasm, Castiel abruptly stopped and stepped away. Dean's knees nearly buckled as the wave of pleasure morphed into a huge surge of frustration. 'The fuck, Cas!', he bit out, right hand darting toward his aching, throbbing cock.

But Castiel wasn't going to permit that. He grabbed Dean's wrist, and used it to pull him around, pushing him toward the bed. Dean stumbled as his legs hit the side, and he fell forward onto his hands, one knee automatically coming up onto the mattress as well. Castiel's hands landed on his hips, pushing down to indicate that Dean should stay there.

Dean obeyed, teeth gritted as he waited for the desperation in his body to ease off. Cas disappeared briefly, and Dean knew why when the next thing he felt was a slick finger seeking out his hole. Lust surged through his blood again, and he almost whimpered, knowing how slow and methodical Castiel usually was with this part.

But again, Cas surprised him, thrusting a finger deep almost at once. 'Ah! Cas, fuck!', Dean cried, body clamping down at the sudden intrusion. Castiel leaned over him, reaching around with his other hand to slowly stroke his dick. Sighing with relief at getting the friction he so needed, Dean's body relaxed, and the finger in his ass soon became two, then three.

Castiel's fingers rubbed over his prostate, and the shock of sensation nearly sent Dean flying over the edge. 'Oh shit, Cas! Enough with the teasing, just fuck me already!'

Castiel didn't argue, hadn't in fact spoken a word since Dean entered the room. He drew away, and Dean heard the wet sounds of lube being applied. Then Cas was pushing into Dean, and Dean gasped; he could tell that Cas hadn't bothered with a condom. Knowing that there was no barrier between them made Dean burn even hotter, and he pushed back at Cas, wanting to feel every velvet inch.

Castiel bottomed out, paused for just a moment, then with no further warmup began to fuck Dean in earnest. 'Fuck, yeah! Goddamn, Cas, just like that!', Dean was in heaven, the hard, driving rhythm just what he needed. With every pounding thrust, the need in his body wound tighter, and he began to pant as he approached orgasm again.

But it wasn't enough, not now that Cas was no longer touching his cock. Dean writhed under Castiel's relentless assault, mouth agape as he passed the point where he would normally have come like gangbusters. 'Oh god, Cas, _please_ touch me. You know I can't come like this.'

Castiel's response was to wrap an arm around his torso, and pull him up against his body. Dean shouted and bucked, Cas' every driving thrust now directly impacting his prostate. Shaking uncontrollably, he twisted and squirmed in Cas' arms, coming completely undone.

'Ohgodohgodohgod, Cas, AH! Pleasepleaseplease, you OHHH, you gotta let me come, I'm HAAAH I'm so close, I need, I SHIT SHIT, I need to, godpleaseCas, FUUUCK!!'

Dean once again tried to reach his own dick, but Castiel's arms below his blocked his every move. Practically sobbing with frustration, he couldn't understand how Cas was holding off, how he was keeping up the hard, steady thrusts that were driving Dean insane. Dean's entire body was hypersensitive, and his cock was as heavy and hard as a lead pipe. All he needed was a touch, just one stroke and he could blow the load that was boiling in his balls.

When Dean was reduced to a keening, sobbing mess too far gone for words, Castiel pulled out and turned him around. Dean was pushed onto his back, the smack of his wet cock against his abdomen as he landed nearly, _nearly_ enough to get him off. Eyes closed, lost in the demands of his body, Dean screamed when Cas plunged back into him.

Castiel found a new rhythm, one even harder and faster than before, but just as relentlessly even. He leaned over Dean, but not quite close enough for his body to brush against Dean's throbbing, leaking cock. Head thrashing from side to side, Dean clawed at Cas' back, mindlessly begging for help, for mercy, for blessed release.

Sure he was about to die for the second time that day, Dean opened his eyes for a last look at his lover's face. Breath caught in his lungs, he felt his entire being still at the look in the eyes blazing down at him. The love/lust/fear/horror/anguish/relief/love he read there drove into him like a fist in the gut, and then he was coming, coming so hard he couldn't see, couldn't breathe, could only cling to Castiel like he was the only thing that could anchor him to this earth.

When the rolling waves of orgasm finally receded, Dean collapsed bonelessly beneath Castiel. Gazing up at him blearily, he realized that Cas was still going strong, though his body trembled with tension. Finally clueing in that Cas was not enjoying this as he should, Dean fought his way out of the post-orgasmic haze, bringing his arms up to gently cradle Castiel's straining body.

Dean looked deep into Castiel's eyes, willing him to see the man in front of him and not whatever horror might be playing out in his head. 'Cas, hey. Look at me, love. I'm right here,' Castiel's breath hitched, his hips stuttering briefly before resuming the pace. 'It's okay, I'm safe, we're both safe, you can let go. Let go, Cas, come for me.'

Castiel's mouth gaped, and then he was slamming into Dean, harder and harder, body tightening impossibly. Finally, he broke, curling into Dean as he silently shuddered through his release. Dean shivered at the feel of Cas spurting wet warmth, deep inside him.

Dean cuddled Cas to his chest, hoping the worst had passed, but Castiel drew only one shaky breath before bursting into great, wracking sobs. 'Oh shit! Hey, hey, Cas, it's okay. Shh, everything's okay now.' He hugged Cas tighter, trying to press comfort into him with his body.

'How c-can you say that, Dean?', Castiel managed, when he could get enough breath to speak. 'Nothing is okay! Because of me, you were taken, and tortured, and then you DIED! And I couldn't help you, I couldn't stop it, I couldn't even get to you.'

'You were a little tied up at the time, Cas. There wasn't anything you could have done.' Oops, wrong thing to say, Dean realized as Castiel's tear-drenched eyes flared wide.

'I should have been able to protect you, to heal you! From the moment I drew you out of Hell, that has been my purpose, and I failed it. But the worst part of all,' Cas closed his eyes, body trembling, 'when you d-died, I c-couldn't follow you.'

Oh. Fuck. What was he supposed to say to that? Cas had just slammed head-first into the true ramifications of lost angeldom, and Dean didn't know how to help him deal. Castiel was sobbing into his shoulder again, clutching at him the way a lost child clings to a stuffed animal.

'Shh, Cas. You'd find me again, eventually. You'd find a way to get your Grace back, or live out your life and join me in Heaven.'

'I might live another 50 or 60 years, Dean! Without you?' His tone was incredulous.

Dean snorted, 'This from the guy who's _literally_ older than _dirt_. You could do 50 years standing on your head, try again.'

'That was before I knew you,' Cas snivelled. 'What if... What if...'

'If I ended up in the Pit again? You'd find a way to get me out.' Dean didn't really hold out much hope of that, but this was about what Cas needed to hear.

'I would, you know.' Dean was pleased to hear that Castiel's voice had firmed. Sniffling, Cas raised his head to meet his eyes. 'I will always come for you.'

Dean kissed him tenderly, tasting the salt of his tears. 'I know, love. But you don't have to worry about it right now. I'm here, you're here, we're all good.'

With a sigh of exhaustion, Castiel snuggled down into Dean's embrace, tucking his face into Dean's neck. 'I love you so much, Dean, I can't stand the thought of living without you. Please, just, never do that again, okay?'

Dean hugged him close, and made the promise he knew he had no power to keep. 'Yeah, Cas. Okay.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam might be willing to let Dean die (9x13), but Castiel never would. He loves in the same fierce, unrelenting way that Dean does. They are made for each other!


	12. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day following their abduction by hostile angels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little of everything; some angst, some levity, and some smut.

It had been nearly dawn when they got back to the bunker, after their too-eventful night. The intense sex and emotional purging had exhausted them enough to allow Dean and Castiel a few good hours of sleep, but when he awoke around 9:00, Dean decided not to tempt fate by trying for more. Groaning quietly, he levered himself upright and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat there a moment, gathering his energy.

'Dean?', came a quiet inquiry from behind him.

'Go back to sleep Cas, if you want. I'm gonna get up.' He felt Castiel sit up, curl an arm around his chest, and rest his head on Dean's shoulder. 'Or, if you're hungry, I was thinking, French Toast?'

'What is that?'

'Basically bread fried in an egg and milk batter. It's good, especially with a little cinnamon.'

'Will you show me how to make it? I would like to learn more about cooking.'

'Sure thing.' He twisted his head to give Cas a good morning kiss, then patted his arm and stood up. 'Let me just grab a shower first. Care to join me?'

'Hmm, yes.' Castiel got out of bed, and made Dean's mouth water for something other than food with a couple of languorous stretches. He strolled toward the bathroom, and Dean happily followed that perfect ass.

Soon they were gently, almost reverently soaping each other's bodies, occasionally rotating to share the warm spray. Dean's heart ached a little as he noted how often Cas' fingers trailed across his chest. He'd also seen how puffy Cas' eyes were, and knowing he likely had a headache, began to massage his neck and shoulders to ease any lingering tension. Castiel groaned his appreciation, and sagged into Dean's embrace.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Cas shifted his weight, causing his hard dick to brush up against Dean's. Given that he'd been thinking of the way Cas had dominated him just a few hours ago, this sent such a jolt of lust through Dean that he stiffened and gasped. Castiel lifted his head from Dean's shoulder, drawing back just far enough to give him a knowing little smile.

Dean grinned back, 'Yeah, you got me. Took me down hard, man.' He leaned in, and breathed into Cas' ear, 'It was totally fuckin' hot.' Castiel shivered, and their dicks rubbed again. Dean moaned and rolled his hips, seeking more of that delicious friction. Having gone untouched the night before, his cock was being twice as demanding as usual today.

Cas reached between them with a soapy hand, and aligned their dicks, so that their full lengths slipped and slid against each other as the two men rutted. His grip on Cas' shoulders growing desperate, Dean threw his head back, gasping for oxygen in the warm, humid air. Castiel fastened eager lips to Dean's throat, sucking at the damp flesh, mouthing at his Adam's apple.

Eyes closed against the water splashing on his face, Dean's awareness narrowed until he was cognizant of nothing but the pleasure radiating from all the places that Cas was touching him. He hadn't realized he was moaning with every breath, until he heard himself get louder when Cas sped the motion of his hips. He tightly gripped the back of Castiel's neck, and drew him into a heated kiss.

Castiel was making little whimpering noises, and had begun to tremble, pushing himself up against Dean as hard as he could. His free hand clutched at Dean's ass, fingers digging deep into the tight, rapidly flexing muscle. He broke away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against Dean's for a moment while he panted. Then his head came up and he captured Dean's gaze, blue eyes staring into green until they blurred and lost focus as Cas spilled over his hand and Dean's dick.

Feeling Cas' length throb, followed by pulses of warmth against his stomach, was too much for Dean. With a choked cry, he pumped his own load of come out to mix with Cas'. Castiel stroked him through the spasms, then brought his hand up to his mouth for a taste of their combined essence. Dean's cock gave one last valiant twitch, as if to offer Cas all that Dean had to give.

Dean kissed Castiel again, sharing the bitter flavor until it melted away, leaving only the delicious taste of Cas. But with one hunger satisfied, another was reasserting itself. Reluctantly, he broke contact, pulling back to smile fondly at his angel, 'I believe I offered to make you something better tasting than that for breakfast.'

Castiel smiled wickedly, 'I do so enjoy it, when you show me new things Dean. Yes, teach me, feed me.'

Dean groaned with renewed arousal; Cas had really picked up the art of innuendo. Good thing he no longer had the refractory period of a teenager, or he'd be going hungry awhile longer.

* * *

Sam was up in time to join them for breakfast, but night owl Kevin was unlikely to emerge before noon. They'd just finished clearing away the dishes when Dean got a text from Charlie. She was in the area, and asking if she could drop by. No one had a problem with it, so he texted back a 'Come on over'. Her reply was, 'Let me in then, I'm right outside.'

'In the neighborhood, my ass,' Dean griped good-naturedly, and ran up the stairs to fetch her. He was absurdly happy to see a friend whose company he'd nearly not lived to enjoy again. He returned the feisty redhead's hug of greeting with enthusiasm.

Sam and Castiel stood waiting for them by the nearest library table. Sam enveloped her in a quick hug, then Dean proudly drew her over to stand in front of Castiel.

'Charlie, meet Castiel. Cas, Charlie.'

'Hello, Charlie.' Cas held out a hand, as he'd learned was customary when meeting new people.

Charlie gripped his hand with both of hers, eyes going wide. 'The angel Castiel?' She looked at Dean, and nearly squeaked, 'The one that pulled you out of Hell?'

'Former angel,' Castiel corrected her, 'I am human now.'

She pumped his hand enthusiastically, 'That's a story I'd love to hear! Wow, it is a great pleasure to meet you, Castiel.' Stepping back a pace, she gave him the once-over, and whistled in appreciation. 'Hot damn, not even the fan fiction does you justice.'

Dean groaned, 'Don't tell me you read that drivel?'

'Along with every one of the Supernatural books. How do you think I found out about Abaddon's little plan, hmm? It's not like you guys bothered with a heads-up.'

'Wait, how'd you know that one was for real?'

'Because it was uploaded by BeckyWinchester176, the same user who posted the remaining, unpublished works of Carver Edlund. Because it's the same sort of end-of-days scenario you lot are always mixed up in. And because it's just too horrifying not to be true.'

'Jesus, there are more books out, loose on the internet? Can't you, like, delete them?'

'My kung fu is strong, but not even I have that kind of power. Sorry.'

'Dean, we're being rude,' Sam broke in. 'Can we get you anything, Charlie? Coffee?'

'That'd be great, thanks. Black, two sugar.'

'I can get it,' Castiel offered.

'Thanks, Cas.' Without thinking, Dean dropped a quick kiss on his lips, before Castiel walked off in the direction of the kitchen.

'Great Caesar's ghost!' Charlie grabbed a double fistful of Dean's overshirt, and yanked him down to her level. ' _Destiel_ is _canon?!'_ Dumbfounded, Dean gaped at her, helpless to prevent the blush that spread across his cheeks.

Sam burst out in delighted laughter. 'Oh, you have no idea! There's probably not a room in this place that they haven't christened.'

Charlie released Dean and stepped back, looked him up and down, then grinned and held up a fist to be bumped. 'Respect, Winchester. I always knew you had it in you.' Dean sighed with relief and returned the fist bump, only to go reeling back as a squealing Charlie leaped into his arms. 'I'm so happy for you!!'

Of course, this was the moment that Castiel chose to return, and Dean was slightly alarmed to see his smiting look settle over his face. Hastily, he set Charlie back on her feet and stepped away from her and toward Cas.

'Your coffee,' Castiel offered Charlie in a cold voice. She took it from him and set it carefully on the nearby table, then surprised Cas by stepping close and kissing him on the cheek.

'Thank you Castiel, for proving once again that True Love prevails.' She turned and pointed a finger at Dean, 'Oh, you are so the Princess Bride!'

Dean scowled at her, then at the having-way-too-much-fun-with-this, wheezing-with-laughter Sam. 'Bite me, Fezzik.' Sam just laughed harder, doubling over as he fought for air.

Charlie sat down and picked up her coffee, gesturing for the rest of them to join her at the table. 'Come on, tell me everything!' She winked at Dean, 'And don't spare the juicy details.'

They sat, and Dean didn't miss the way Charlie's eyes softened when Cas linked his fingers with Dean's. She teased, but she was a true romantic. He hoped she found a love of her own, someday. He thought back to when they'd last seen her, when Sam was halfway through the trials. 'Okay, this might take awhile...'

While Dean talked, Sam got more coffee for everyone and served cheese and fruit snacks. A sleepy-eyed Kevin joined them after awhile. Once introduced to Charlie, he was content to just sit and listen while he gradually woke up.

Charlie heard Dean out, a gamut of emotions running over her expressive face at the high points of the story. She managed to contain herself, mostly, though she couldn't help the occasional incredulous exclamation. Such as, 'You _died? Yesterday?'_

Dean shrugged sheepishly, 'I got better?'

Charlie put a hand over her eyes and heaved a long-suffering sigh. Then, with a queenly gesture, she indicated that he should continue. When he'd finished, she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a pointed stare. 'Let me get this straight. You have a giant, old-timey computer in your basement, that sends up a red alert upon detection of freaky supernatural badness, and _you didn't think to call me?'_

Dean rubbed at his neck, 'Ah, well... It really hasn't been that long since we found that room, and um...'

Charlie hmmed, 'I guess I can give you a pass this one time, seeing as your brain was all fuddled with the good-luv drugs.' She arched a brow at Sam, 'So what's your excuse?'

Sam held his hands up in a don't-shoot gesture. 'Stupidity?'

She snorted, 'Well, as long as you admit it. But I'm here now, so somebody point me at this thing, already!'

They took her to it, then watched amused as she went into geek rhapsodies. Soon she was deep into the guts of the thing, and peppering Sam and Kevin with questions about the network they'd been setting up in the library. She was sure she could get the ancient machine to link up with it, which would give them easy access to all the Men of Letters data files.

Dean's eyes started to glaze over, listening to all the tech-talk. The nerdgasms seemed likely to go on for some time, and he was already bored. 'You know Cas, I was going to make spaghetti sauce today, but I'm thinking a lasagna for dinner would also be a good idea. Want to learn some more about cooking?'

Castiel had been quietly watching the goings-on without evidencing boredom, but there was a certain eagerness in his reply, 'Yes, I would like that.'

'Awesome.' Dean raised his voice a little, 'Hey guys, we're gonna go start dinner, have fun, bye!' He grabbed Cas' hand, and made good their escape.

* * *

By late afternoon, dinner was in the oven, and the flurry of nerdly activity in the library had finally died down. Sam and Kevin were each sitting in front of a computer screen, sifting through the masses of new data, and Charlie was fiddling with their cell phones. She caught sight of Dean and Castiel, and rapped her knuckles on the table to get everyone's attention.

'Okay, gather round bitches. Let me show you what else I've done for you.'

The four of them arranged themselves behind her chair, where they could see her computer screen. She logged onto the internet, and pulled up a website. 'This is the reason I came here today, to help you hunt in my own special way.'

Dean looked at the page Charlie was scrolling through, perplexed. It had the appearance of a conspiracy website put up by a nutjob, only instead of the usual rantings about UFOs or black helicopters, it was titled Angel Wars. 'What is this?'

'This is something my hacker buds and I put together, a site where anyone can report incidents they suspect are related to the angel war. There's a secret section here,' she clicked on a cleverly concealed icon and gave them a password to access the protected pages, 'where you'll find more detail on the ones we've been able to verify, to at least some extent.'

Dean was impressed, 'You've got police and coroner's reports in here, these are for real?'

'I did say hacker buddies, didn't I? And I've checked the dead angel numbers and locations against what's being shown on your fancy table over there, and we're matching up on over 70% of the cases. I think we just haven't caught up on a couple of the more recent ones, though.'

'Charlie, this is awesome! We haven't been able to go in person to check on most of these, they're too far-flung. We did investigate this one recently,' he pointed to a crime scene photo showing a bizarre mix of dead bikers and church ladies. 'The bikers were vessels for Bartholomew's crew, and the attackers belonged to Malachi. They seem to be feeling each other out; these sorts of skirmishes have been popping up all over. A few deaths occur each time, and they're starting to add up. We'll be into triple digits soon.'

'That's worrying, I agree, something you'll definitely want to keep an eye on. And guess what? Now there's an app for that!' Grinning widely, she handed back their cell phones.

Dean looked at his screen, and just like on the map table, there was now a glowing, red number in one corner. He tapped it, and a map came up showing clusters of red dots, again just like the map table. Only with this he could now zoom in on a selected location, and even get GPS directions. 'Charlie, you've outdone yourself. This is going to be so helpful.'

Charlie laced her fingers behind her head, and leaned back in her chair, a self-satisfied look on her face. 'Maybe next time, you'll keep me in the loop. Riiight?'

Dean chuckled, 'We won't make that mistake again.'

'Good lads. Now, what smells so yummy?'

* * *

Charlie leaned toward Sam and said in a stage whisper, 'Oh my god, the staring really is epic! I counted six Mississippi's, and that was just to pass the bread. How did you stand it all these years?'

'Believe it or not, I thought of it as just one of Cas' weird mannerisms. He was always really intense, and never did blink much. Humans naturally break eye contact during conversations, but it took Castiel awhile to learn to do that. He did have a tendency to hover near Dean, but he had pulled him out of Hell, and they shared this profound bond thing... Plus, Dean was still doing his damndest to identify as straight, so he'd stare, yeah, but then he'd make Cas back off.' Sam shrugged, 'I'm actually kinda glad I didn't clue into the UST back then, or I would have been waaay more uncomfortable.'

'Seriously, you never suspected? I hadn't known you guys long at all before I figured out that Dean was at least interested in men. He was just a little too good at coaching me through flirting with that male guard, capice?'

'You know how it is, you're never so blind as with the ones closest to you. Besides, you're gay yourself, your radar is attuned to sense it.'

'Pfft, that's a myth. All you need is eyes and a brain, you just weren't using yours!'

Sam laughed, 'Okay, granted. I lived a life of blissful ignorance, which I frequently miss.'

Charlie grinned at him, 'Blatant, are they?'

Sam rolled his eyes, 'Blatant, ubiquitous, and _loud._ And the staring has only gotten worse.'

Charlie snickered, 'What, they haven't gotten it out of their system yet?'

'You'd think. But they do it all the time! I don't think they even realize it. I'm constantly tempted to rearrange the furniture in the room or something, just to see the reaction when they come out of it.'

'Oh come on, it can't be that bad.' Giggles were beginning to get the best of her, picturing it.

'I am not even kidding. Last week the three of us were watching a movie, and next thing I know, I'm the only one with eyes on the screen. I paused the movie, went to the kitchen, made popcorn, came back, and they hadn't moved. I started the movie up again, and offered the bowl to Dean. He looked at me like I'd conjured it out of thin air.'

'S-stop, you're killing me.' Charlie had completely succumbed to laughter now.

Dean was glaring again, 'You know, we can _hear_ you.'

Convulsed, she had to rely on Sam had to support her, to keep her from falling out of her chair.

* * *

Charlie decided to stay the night, and was given one of the unused bedrooms. They spent the evening watching the original Star Wars trilogy, after Charlie thumped Dean for never having shown it to Cas. Castiel had started to protest, but Dean had defended her action, openly admitting that she was in the right and he was wrong.

Dean, of course, spent half the time watching Cas watch the movies, because that was way more entertaining. As the credits rolled on The Empire Strikes Back, Castiel turned to say something to Dean but got caught in the green of his eyes.

Dean groped for his beer, finally having to look away from Castiel to locate it. It was just out of reach, and he realized why when Charlie burst out in peals of laughter. Sam, a smug look on his face, held up a hand, and Charlie enthusiastically high-fived him. Dean snorted, amused in spite of himself. 'You guys suck.'

Kevin was putting the third movie in, but Dean had seen that Castiel was struggling to stave off sleep, despite evidently enjoying the movies. He had worried that the dramatic confrontation between Darth Vader and Luke, complete with swords and screaming and lost body parts, would be disturbing to Castiel. But he'd stayed relaxed, tucked up against Dean throughout, and only gasped at the revelation of the nature of the relationship between the characters.

Still, they'd had a big day yesterday, and only a few hours sleep; he decided to take his angel to bed. 'I'm done in folks, gonna hit the hay.' He stood up, and Castiel predictably rose with him. 'See you tomorrow.' He waited while Cas said his goodnights, then took him by the hand. He threw a smug look back at Charlie as they left the room, and she pretended to swoon in romantic bliss.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Dean dreamed of the rack. He relived tortures that were far more horrific than the ones more recently inflicted by a psychotic angel. And just as he'd been unable to escape then, no matter how he twisted and screamed, he was now unable to awaken. His body had grown too accustomed to these sorts of dreams, and no matter what horrors he suffered, it continued to take the rest it needed.

But the moans of distress emanating from the man lying beside him, those were enough to bring him to alarmed awareness. He looked over to see a sweat-drenched Castiel breathing erratically, the look on his face suggesting that he was screaming, internally. Dean quickly reached over to shake him, 'Cas, wake up. You're having a bad dream.'

Castiel jolted, and his eyes snapped open. 'Dean?', he gasped out, a world of relief in his tone. Then all the color drained from his face, and having been there himself, Dean knew what was coming next.

'Bathroom, Cas. Right now.' Dean leaped out of bed, and practically dragged Castiel along with him. Even with his quick action, they barely made it to the toilet before Cas was heaving violently, his body attempting to forcibly eject the horror that sickened it. Dean knelt beside him, rubbing comforting circles on his back while he shuddered and retched.

Finally, the spasms passed, and Castiel cautiously sat back on his heels. His expression was priceless, a little shocked and a lot revolted, and Dean realized that he'd just experienced another first as a human - puking. Dean ruthlessly supressed a sudden urge to snicker, because Cas' body betraying him was certainly no joke to him, but oh, the look on his face!

'That's a normal reaction, Cas. Sometimes dreams have a physical effect, especially if they're really bad.' Castiel looked at him mournfully, starting to tremble again from the cooling effect of sweat drying on his naked body; they'd long since stopped bothering to wear anything to bed, liking the skin-to-skin contact. Dean had never found a thermostat, but the bedrooms of the bunker were always at the same, slightly cool temperature; ideal for sleeping.

Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel and helped him to his feet, 'Come on, let's get you back to bed. Brush your teeth first, I know you've got a nasty taste in your mouth right now.' Castiel quietly did as he was bid, and was soon tucked close to Dean's side, warm under the covers. Gradually, the waves of shivers passing through him grew less frequent as he tried to relax. 'Want to talk about it?', Dean asked quietly.

'It seemed so real,' Cas sighed, sounding defeated. 'You were being tortured, but it was by my hand, my sword.' He swallowed against a renewed wave of sickness, 'You were looking at me, begging me to stop, but I didn't. Then Naomi was there, and she said my name, and I killed you. Just did it, no hesitation, as I'd done a thousand times before. But this time I knew it was really you, not one of her simulacra, and I was just standing there, my blade buried in your heart, screaming...'

'Okay Cas, enough. Jesus.' Dean hugged him close, more appalled by the cruelty of his subconscious than he'd been by that of his own.

'Dean, I really don't want to go back to sleep.'

Dean wasn't exactly keen to return to his own dreamscape, 'Me either. What do you say we take a drive, get some fresh air?'

'Yes, I'd like that.' Castiel immediately rolled out of bed and began to dress.

Dean followed suit, trying to think of something to change the subject. 'Say, Cas? What's with all the contractions you're using, all of a sudden? Is that like a stress reaction for you or something?'

Castiel glanced at him sheepishly, 'You seemed to like it when I spoke more formally. I thought that, like my voice, it maybe turned you on?'

Dean laughed, mood considerably lightened. 'Ahh Cas, you are a treasure. Actually, I think you may be right, it is kind of hot. But, you don't have to keep it up all the time. It could be like a secret language between us, if you use it when you're deliberately trying to get me worked up. I'd know, but no one else would.' Dean felt triumphant when that thought actually drew a smile.

'That could be fun. Okay, I'll try it.'

* * *

Dean drove north for about twenty minutes, then turned left onto a winding river road. He found it more interesting to drive on the curvy back roads than the straight highways. He was feeling pretty relaxed, until Castiel revealed that he wasn't.

'The dreams. They'll keep happening, won't they.'

'Uhh, yeah. Probably. For awhile, anyway.'

'Will I be sick every time?' He managed to sound forlorn and squeamish at the same time.

'I don't think so, though I won't lie, it might still happen if you have another really bad one. Everything's just so fresh in your mind right now, it kinda overwhelmed your system. It'll get better with time.'

'You still dream of Hell sometimes.'

Dean glanced quickly at Cas, wondering how he'd known, then realized he hadn't been speaking about tonight. 'And I probably always will, especially when life gets rough. But it's not every night anymore, and it's rare for them to be bad enough to wake me up.'

'I wish I'd been able to wake up.'

'You might have, in a minute. You were pretty close to it.'

'Thank you for freeing me from that nightmare, Dean.'

'I'd watch over your dreams, if I could, Cas. I know you helped me get past the worst of mine.'

'It was my privilege, and you did help me. You woke me, and cared for me when I became ill.'

'I'm a pretty light sleeper, when I want to be. Even without trying, I'll probably wake up now if you start making noises or getting restless. With any luck, we can disrupt your dream cycle before things get too awful.'

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't be able to avoid the dreams, but just knowing that Dean would be there for him, in every way he could, was reassuring. 'Okay. But let's not go back just yet.'

'Hadn't planned on it. There's a place I want to show you, actually. We're almost there.' A few more minutes of driving brought them to the destination he'd been heading for all along. He turned onto a small road that led to an old truss bridge. It was closed off to vehicles, having been replaced by a concrete bridge a little further west. Dean stopped the car nearby, and stepped out into the warm, late-summer night.

Castiel got out too, looking around curiously. The moon was nearly full, and they could see quite well. 'You wanted to show me the bridge?'

'Nope. I'm interested in what's below it. Come on.' Dean grabbed a bag he'd brought, and began to carefully make his way down to the riverbank. When he reached it, he immediately began to strip off his clothes.

Castiel had followed him down, and came to stand beside him. 'Are we going to have sex?'

Dean gave him a quick kiss, but said, 'No, we're going for a swim.'

Castiel's eyes widened, 'Dean, I don't know how to swim.'

'No kidding. You sank like a rock the last time you waded out into a lake. I don't want to lose you to something as mundane as drowning, so you'd better learn.'

'As you wish.'

'Oh, do not start with that Princess Bride bull! Did Charlie put you up to that?'

An enigmatic little smile played around Castiel's lips, 'She is a very interesting person.'

Dean groaned, 'I knew it was a mistake to leave the two of you alone in a room together. What else did you... On second thought, I don't want to know. Come on, get your clothes off.'

As soon as they were both naked, Dean took Castiel's hand and together they approached the water. Soft grass gave way to small rocks along the edge, reminding them just how tender unshod feet were. Moving gingerly, they slowly waded into the cool water. Dean was prepared for it, but Castiel gasped with shock when they got deep enough for his balls to contact the water, and they immediately tried to climb back into his body.

Dean laughed, 'Better just to get it over with all at once,' and pushed Castiel over. Cas flailed and splashed until he got his feet back under him in the waist-deep water. Not one to be outdone, he immediately launched himself at Dean, and they both went under. A good deal of roughhousing ensued, until Cas managed to inhale at the wrong moment, and had to stop and cough.

Dean had been enjoying himself immensely, but he was serious about teaching Cas how to stay afloat at a very minimum. When Cas lunged at him again, he dodged, leaving him to fall onto his stomach in the water. Dean grabbed his outstretched hands and rapidly backed away, towing Cas along like a little kid. 'Kick your feet, Cas. I'm gonna let go, and I want you to keep reaching for me, but only one hand at a time. Bring the other hand back toward you, in a scooping motion. It's called a dog paddle.'

Dean let go, and Castiel tried to follow his instructions, but quickly went under and automatically put his feet down to stand. 'Try again, Cas.' He showed him how to move his arms before taking his hands and starting to tow him again. This time, when he let go, Cas managed to stay up for a few strokes, before he put his feet down again.

'Oh, I think I see how it works,' Cas exclaimed, and pushed himself forward again. This time his movements were more coordinated, and a little faster. Though he was holding his head awkwardly high, he was clearly getting the hang of it.

'Alright, Cas!', Dean cheered him on, watching as Castiel swam around him in loose circles. Then he joined in, easily keeping up with a casual sidestroke. He was pleased at how quickly Cas was learning. The location had turned out to be ideal for the lesson, deep enough to swim, but nowhere too deep to stand. The river was wide at this point, and the current so slow-moving, it was almost like swimming in a lake.

Finally, breathless and grinning like a loon, Castiel stood and when Dean did too, drew him into a hug. 'This is wonderful, Dean! The feel of the water sliding over my skin, the freedom of lessened gravity; it's a little like flying.'

'I should have brought you here sooner, it won't be long before the weather is too cold to swim outdoors. We'll find a public pool to go to, but enjoy swimming naked now, we won't be able to do that most of the time. Here, let me show you something else you can't enjoy at an indoor pool. Lie on your back, I'll support you.'

Trustingly, Castiel lay back in the water with Dean's arms under his torso. Dean spoke a little louder, so Cas could still hear him with his ears submerged, 'Okay, just relax. Your butt's too low, bring it up, like that, yeah, good.' Gradually, Dean withdrew his arms, leaving Castiel floating.

Castiel moved his arms a little, in a slow sweeping motion, obviously uncertain that he could stay up with moving at all. Dean didn't try to stop him, it wasn't a contest, and any way he felt comfortable was fine.

Dean stretched out beside Castiel, and let his body relax. With all sound muffled, and unable to see anything but the starry sky above, Dean felt peace seep into him. His breathing slowed and deepened, and he lost all sense of time as he gazed into infinity.

Eventually though, he began to feel cold, and knew the distraction would only worsen. With a reluctant sigh, he prepared himself to return to reality, and allowed his legs to sink, pulling him upright. The ripples he created in the still water startled Castiel, as the liquid encroached on his eyes and mouth. He sputtered, sank, then stood.

Dean grinned when Castiel's eyes turned to him, 'What did you think? Nice, huh?'

Castiel's face softened, 'That was... I don't even know how to...' He drew a deep breath, 'For the first time in a long time, I felt close to God.'

Dean's heart squeezed in his chest. He'd hoped Castiel would find the experience relaxing, that he'd found it spiritual was an unexpected bonus. 'I'm glad, Cas. C'mere.' Castiel came eagerly into his arms, lowering his head to Dean's shoulder with a contented sigh. They stood in the waist-deep water for a few minutes, just enjoying being relaxed and together.

But of course it couldn't last. Castiel shivered, drawing Dean's attention back to the fact that he was feeling increasingly cold, himself. He rubbed his hands briskly up and down Castiel's arms, then drew away. 'Had enough for tonight?'

'Yes. Since we stopped moving, I've grown increasingly chilled.'

'Me too. Let's get out.' They made their way back to the bank, feeling the full weight of gravity return as they left the gentle buoyancy of the water. Dean took the towels he'd brought out of the bag, and handed one to Castiel. They dried off and dressed quickly, eager to get warm again.

By the time they'd climbed the slope to get back to the Impala, Dean was comfortable again; it was quite a warm night. He moved to get into the car, but Castiel stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face the other man.

'I want to thank you, Dean, for bringing me here. I feel so much better now.'

Dean smiled, happy that he'd been able to help, 'My pleasure. I had fun, too.'

Still wanting to express his appreciation, Castiel moved into Dean, and began to pepper his face with gentle kisses. Dean tolerated that for a minute, then captured Cas' mouth for a proper kiss. What started off gentle and loving soon escalated into heated want. Castiel was pushing Dean up against the Impala, grinding their hips together.

'Cas,' Dean gasped out.

'Yes, Dean?' Castiel's voice had fallen into that low growl that never failed to send a shiver up Dean's spine.

'Now we're going to have sex.'

'Yes, Dean.' This time, his voice expressed nothing but eagerness.

'Take your clothes back off.' Dean quickly shed his own, then rummaged in the bag at his feet for the supplies that he always had on hand nowadays. He put the small bottle of lube and a condom on the hood of the Impala, then drew Castiel around to the front of the car. They stood and necked for a bit, hands roaming over each other's bodies, breath quickening as they grew increasingly aroused.

Dean put his hands under Cas' thighs, and lifted him onto the hood of the car. Castiel didn't even break the kiss, just wrapped his legs around Dean, keeping as much of his body in contact with him as he could. Dean leaned forward, pushing Cas into a supine position. He looked up to locate the bottle of lube, reached past Castiel's head for it, then stood straight again.

Castiel drew up one knee, placing his heel on the bumper and spreading himself to give Dean easy access. Dean sucked in a breath at the picture he presented, laid out on the hood of Dean's beloved car, offering himself up for whatever Dean wanted. God, it was one of his favorite wet dreams come true. He felt pre-come leaking from his cock as it emphatically agreed with him.

'God, Cas. You're beautiful.' He ran reverent hands up the inside of Cas' thighs, gently fondled his balls, then took hold of his warm, hard dick. He kept his eyes glued to Castiel as he pumped his cock, riveted by the sight of his pale body writhing against the dark metal.

'Ahh, Dean.' His hips were starting to buck, 'That's so good, but haah, you need to stop, I'm mmm getting too close, uhh!' His head flung back with cresting pleasure, Castiel grabbed Dean's hand, stilling it just in time. Panting and trembling, he lay unmoving until the worst of the urge to come had backed off. When he looked down to see Dean watching him with dark eyes, a hand pressed tight to his own dick to stave off orgasm, he had to fight off another surge that nearly took him over the edge.

'Holy shit, Cas. You're unbelievably sexy, you know that? God, I have to have you!'

'Please, Dean,' Castiel moaned, lifting his hips and spreading his legs even wider. 'Please, I need you.'

Cursing under his breath at the desperation in his body, Dean fumbled with the lube. As much as he wanted to rush, though, he made himself move slowly, gently working Cas open. He leaned over Castiel again, laving attention on his nipples with his mouth as his fingers pressed and rubbed down below.

Castiel gripped desperately at Dean's shoulders, writhing again under the sensual assault. He arched his back, mewling and pushing his chest toward the pleasure of Dean's mouth. Then he fell back, hips trying to rise as Dean's fingers found his prostate. A little more of this back and forth, and he was crying out in desperation. 'Dean, please! Please, now!' He moaned, empty and bereft, as Dean withdrew from his body.

Dean readied himself as quickly as he could, then returned to the warmth of his lover's arms. Groaning at the exquisite sensations, he slowly pressed himself into Castiel's body. Fully sheathed, he paused, propped on his elbows over Cas. Head hanging, he panted, afraid he'd blow if he moved too soon.

Castiel wrapped his legs around his hips, pulling himself closer. 'Come on, Dean,' he moaned. 'Fuck me! '

Dean drew back his hips, then slowly thrust back in, gauging his body's reaction. He was achingly hard, but what he was feeling most now was an urge to rut, fast and hard. He made himself stroke slowly in and out a few more times though, giving Castiel a chance to adjust to his size.

Castiel thumped a fist into his ribs, urging him to greater speed as if he was a lazy horse. Oh, he wanted a ride, did he? Grinning, Dean pushed up so that he was leaning on his hands, then increased his pace to a gallop.

Apparently, that was just what Castiel was wanting. Dean could tell from the pitch of his cries and the tension in his body that he was rapidly approaching climax. Just as well, Dean was rushing toward that cliff, himself. Remembering how torturous it had been to go untouched the night before, Dean did not deny his lover in such a way. He reached between them, and started to jack Cas off in time with the thrusts into his body.

There was no way Cas could hold off with that amount of stimulation. Screaming his pleasure to the night, he came hard, asshole clenching around Dean and driving him out of his mind. 'Caaaas!', Dean cried out to the stars, head flung back in ecstasy as he came too. He collapsed atop Castiel, pinning him to the metal.

They lay there panting and sated, the night breeze cooling the sweat from their skin. Then Castiel shifted, uncomfortable on the hard surface, and Dean quickly got off him. He looked at the mess on his chest with a grimace, 'Maybe we should have done that before we went swimming.' He got the damp towels, tossed one to Cas, and used the other to clean himself up.

Castiel smirked, 'I did suggest it.'

'I should listen to you, when you have such good ideas.' Now in a really good mood, he kissed Castiel again, just to luxuriate in the feel of their naked bodies pressed together. Then, with one last squeeze of his delectable ass, Dean let him go. 'Are you ready to go back?'

'Yes, I think I can sleep now.'

They dressed and got into the car, and Dean hadn't been driving for ten minutes when he realized that Castiel had proven his own words. He left the radio off, quietly humming one of his favorite songs instead, as he settled in to enjoy the ride back to the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, Charlie's not easy to write! She's a wonderful character, and I tried my best to do her justice. I hope you liked it.
> 
> I credit the lovely Amelia_Clark and her story Sam Winchester, Voice of Reason for inspiring the bit about the staring. Thanks for making me laugh, Amelia.


	13. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The angel war is escalating, coming to a head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end now, only a couple more chapters I think.

Dean stood beside the map table, sipping coffee and studying the multitude of little red lights. There were far more of them now than there'd been when Charlie visited, less than two months ago. And, unless he was mistaken, they were beginning to cluster.

Suddenly getting an idea, he walked over to where Kevin was sitting at one of the library computer terminals. 'Hey, Kev. Got a minute?'

'Sure, Dean. Need me to look something up for you?'

'No, I was wondering if you could, I dunno, somehow show the skirmish sites,' he waved in the general direction of the map table, 'as they occurred; so we can see which happened when.'

'You mean you want to see a projection, over time, of the occurrences?'

'Yeah, that. Is it possible?'

'Sure, I think I can work something up. Give me a few minutes. Is there any coffee left?'

'No, but I can make more. I'll round up Sam and Cas, too. Back in ten.'

Dean found Cas sitting on the bed in his room, tying his running shoes in preparation for a run with Sam. 'Grab Sam and swing by the library on your way out, will you? I think I'm seeing a pattern, and I'd like a second opinion.' Cas nodded agreement, and Dean made his way to the kitchen to get Kevin's coffee.

A few minutes later, they were all sitting or standing where they could see the screen in front of Kevin. He pulled up a map of the world, one showing over five hundred red dots. 'This is where things stand right now.' He pressed a key, and the dots vanished. 'And this is the order in which it happened.' He pressed another key, and a few red dots appeared, then a few more, then the map was being peppered with increasing speed.

'There! Do you see that?', Dean exclaimed. The ones in the States, they're moving east, aren't they?'

Sam leaned forward, intent. 'Run it again, would you Kevin?' He did, and Sam blew out a breath. 'Damn, you're right. Seeing the clusters appear in order like that, there's a definite directionality to them. They seem to be converging on the east coast. Hang on, let me check with Kaia.'

Sam left to get his cell phone, and Kevin ran the simulation again, making his own observation. 'Looks like they're coming down from Canada, too. See these ones in Quebec and Ontario?', he asked, pointing at the screen as he ran it again. 'They're wide-spread at first, but then they converge on the Montreal area. These last few, bigger clusters are south of that, moving back into the U.S.'

Sam rejoined them, looking grim. 'New York, that's where they're headed. Kaia just texted me that she recently received orders to move her unit there. She's got them on buses, and they're en route right now. They should reach the city by morning.'

Dean frowned, puzzled. 'Why? What's in New York?'

'She doesn't know. Malachi likes to play it close to the vest. He gives out info on a need-to-know basis. She wasn't even aware of what we just discovered, that Bartholomew is moving his troops in the same direction. She seemed kinda pissed, actually. Clearly, she's been left out of some key strategy sessions.'

'Malachi probably doesn't like that Kaia disagrees with him, and isn't afraid to let him know it. He seems like the sort to surround himself with yes-men. Hey, how come this is the first we're hearing about this? I thought Kaia was going to keep us informed?'

'She risks exposure every time she contacts us, you know that. She's been checking in once a week, but we weren't due to hear from her until tomorrow. She only received these orders a couple of days ago.'

'Well it seems like New York is where the action is, or is about to be. Who's up for a road trip?'

* * *

The last part of the two day drive was the prettiest. Early October in New York state was prime time for viewing the fall foliage, and the gorgeous reds and golds mixed in with the still-green leaves made the forested landscape just breathtaking.

Though Cas never protested riding in the back, on the second day, Sam kindly let him have the front passenger seat. This was both to give the ex-angel the chance to fully appreciate the view, and because, well, this scenic route stuff was kind of romantic. Sam almost felt like he was crashing a newly wedded couple's honeymoon trip.

With that in mind, Sam used his cell to search out accommodations for the night, hoping to find something a cut above their usual. He lucked out, finding a quaint little B&B that had just had a cancellation. The owners liked to cook, and the dinner that had been part of the package was available, too. He booked the meal and room for Dean and Cas, and found himself a spot at a nearby motel. He was more than happy to give the two a little privacy.

Dean was filling the Impala, and Cas had gone inside the gas station to pay, when Sam told Dean what he'd done. Dean, naturally, protested, and Sam's patience ran out.

'Jesus, Dean. We're walking into what looks to become an angelic ground zero, and Cas is still enemy number one for both sides. You know he's also been having more of a rough time dealing with being human since you... Well, since. Don't you think he could use a nice evening out? Take your boyfriend on a damn date!'

Dean was taken aback, but quickly saw that Sam was right. He grinned at his pissy little brother, 'Okay, geez. Don't get your panties in a bunch, Samantha. You wanna play matchmaker, fine. I'm sure Cas will like whatever you've set up for us.'

'You can take credit for it, if you want,' Sam grumbled. 'It'd be nice if you thought of these things, but I know that's a bit much to ask.'

'You're gonna make someone a fine wife someday, Sammy.'

'Oh shut up, Dean.'

Dean got a kick out of mocking Sam, but driving up to the lovely old home after dropping him off, he actually felt grateful for his efforts. The B&B was situated on the edge of a small lake, and he and Cas walked around to the back before going in, to appreciate the view. The brilliant fall hues of the trees around the lake were reflected in the still surface, and the air, cooling as the sun set, was crisp in their lungs.

Dean had an arm around Castiel, and felt him shiver. He grinned at the slightly surprised look that crossed his face; Cas still wasn't entirely used to his body reacting to things like temperature. 'It's getting cold, huh? Let's go inside.'

It turned out they could continue to enjoy the view of the lake from the B&B's enclosed porch that doubled as an intimate dining room. They were served a fabulous meal, roast beef with mashed potatoes, peas, and Yorkshire pudding. Dean drowned everything in the savory gravy, and wanted to groan with pleasure at every bite. Apples being in season, it was no surprise to find them featured in the dessert. It wasn't pie, but Dean was willing to concede that the apple crumble dish was nearly as good.

The older couple running the place were very nice, but Dean wanted to be alone with Cas, so they retired to their room early. The room was another pleasant surprise, spacious, with a private bathroom, a big, comfortable bed, and even a fireplace. Its most intriguing feature though, was a huge, ornate floor-to-ceiling mirror along one wall.

Dean immediately thought of all the stories of mirrors being used as portals, 'cause damn, you could ride a horse through that thing. He was briefly tempted to get the crowbar from the trunk, just to have some cold iron on hand, but managed to shake off the Hunter paranoia. Hell, he always had his demon-killing knife close to hand, if it came to that. Amused at his own thoughts, he went to take a shower while Cas fussed about, hanging up their suits for the next day. They planned to visit the most recent of the skirmish sites, so the FBI guises would be needed.

Castiel's eyes darkened when he walked out of the bathroom with only a smallish towel wrapped around his hips. Cas stalked toward him like a predatory cat, then took Dean's lips in a knee-dissolving kiss. Satisfied with the reaction he'd gotten, Castiel headed off for his own shower. Dean let out a shaky breath, and ruefully looked down at the hopeful erection tenting his towel. 'Soon, buddy. Hang in there.'

Tossing the towel over a nearby chair, he knelt naked in front of the fireplace. Dean was pleased to find it laid with real wood, he'd never liked the gas facsimiles. Lighting it with one of the provided, long matches, he sat back to watch the fire take hold. The pleasant scent of wood smoke and the crackle of flames made for a warm and cozy atmosphere.

Knowing that sex was next on the agenda, Dean got what they'd need from his duffel bag, then looked around, assessing the possibilities of the room. How best to incorporate the mirror into their play? Experimentally, he dragged a large, wing-backed leather chair into a better position, picturing in his mind how he'd drape Castiel across it while he toyed with his body. His softening erection perked right up again.

Castiel finally emerged from the shower, not even bothering to conceal his nakedness with a towel. Dean had been sprawled in the chair, waiting, but got up to meet him. He pulled the still-damp man into an embrace, nosing at his neck to draw in the scent of fresh, clean Cas. God, he smelled good.

Castiel turned them slightly, so he could watch his hands smooth over Dean's back in the mirror, continuing down until he was squeezing the firm globes of his buttocks. Dean smiled, pressing kisses into Cas' shoulder. 'See something you like?'

'Yes, very much so. You are beautiful, Dean.'

Dean felt the beginnings of a blush, he still found it hard to accept a compliment. He turned Castiel in his arms, then pivoted so that Castiel was full-frontal in the mirror, Dean admiring him from behind. 'Now, that's beauty.' He ran reverent hands down Castiel's sides. 'Look at you, Cas. You're gorgeous.'

Castiel huffed at the way Dean deflected attention from himself, but let it go. They were enjoying a lovely evening, working on Dean's self-esteem issues could wait for another time. He leaned back into his lover's embrace, and lazily watched Dean's hands run over his body, teasing and arousing him.

Dean mouthed at Castiel's sensitive neck while his hands played with pert nipples, and gave an occasional slow stroke to his dick. Castiel moved under his hands, undulating against him and rubbing his ass up against Dean's hard cock. Dean pushed back, rutting gently against Cas until the urge for more, harder, faster became hard to ignore.

He wasn't ready to move on to the main event yet, though. He wanted to watch Cas fall apart, and the mirror provided an opportunity for that while doing things where it would normally be impossible for Dean to see his face. He tugged Castiel over to the chair, then showed him how he wanted him to position himself.

Castiel ended up facing the mirror, bent crossways over the chair with one knee on the seat, hands on the chair arm supporting his weight. Dean dragged the footstool that went with the chair up behind Cas, then knelt on it. As the chair was only partially facing the mirror, Dean could see the entire length of Castiel's body. He could also see the eager look on his face as Dean spread his ass cheeks, leaned in, and began to lick.

Castiel's hands clenched on the chair arm, and a flush spread down his body. 'Ooh, Dean! Oh, that's good.' As Dean continued to lave attention on the sensitive area, he began to gently writhe, back arching and hips twitching as his cock swelled to aching hardness. Dean stiffened his tongue, pushing it past the tight ring of muscle, and Castiel threw his head back with a pleasured cry.

Dean was having trouble staying focused on his task, barely able to tear his eyes from the riveting sight of a panting, moaning, squirming Castiel. His cock was so hard, it was pressed up against his stomach, smearing pre-come across the skin every time he moved. Wanting to be able to keep his head up, Dean switched to working Cas open with warm, slick fingers instead of his tongue.

Castiel sobbed and tossed his head when Dean's questing fingers brushed over his prostate. Having found the sweet spot, Dean lingered, rubbing at it repeatedly while he reached around to tug at Cas' rigid, weeping cock. Cas let out a near scream, ecstasy suffusing his face as he writhed on Dean's fingers, and Dean was having the time of his life. His own desperation was nearly forgotten as he lost himself in appreciation of Castiel's.

But, rather than have Cas come all over the chair, Dean decided it was time to switch positions. He pulled his fingers out, and Castiel dropped his head, whining at the loss. Dean pulled his trembling body upright, then indicated that Cas should just stand and wait a moment. He tugged the chair around to fully face the mirror, then sat in it and rolled a condom over his by now very eager cock.

Castiel went to climb into his lap, but Dean stopped him, making him turn to face the mirror. He sat as far forward on the chair as he could, then pulled Castiel back to straddle his legs. Dean lined up his cock with Castiel's entrance, then helped Cas ease down onto it. Leaning around so he could see, he moaned as he watched his cock slowly disappear into Castiel's body.

Castiel's eyes were blown wide, and they were also fastened to the sight of him taking Dean in. Grasping the chair arms with desperate fingers, he fought to keep to the agonizingly slow pace. When he was fully seated, Dean again reached around to lovingly stroke his cock, and Castiel clenched hard on the heated length impaling him. Both men cried out at the exquisite sensations.

Castiel rocked his hips forward, sliding a little way up Dean's shaft, then ground back down. 'Holy _fuck_ , Cas! You feel so damn good!' Castiel did some kind of swivel-hipped, figure-eight move, and Dean thought he'd lose his mind. _'Jesus fucking Christ!'_

Dean's swearing only turned Castiel on more, and he began to move faster. Using both his legs and the chair for leverage, he danced in Dean's lap, his moans of pleasure growing increasingly loud. Dean kept one hand wrapped around his cock, and the other slid up his sweaty torso to tweak pebble-hard nipples. That proved too much for Castiel. Coming with a shriek, he pumped hot ropes of come far enough to splatter against the surface of the mirror.

That visual, coupled with the blissed-out look on Cas' face and the way he was clamping down on Dean's cock, was more than enough to do him in, too. Wrapping an arm tight around Castiel's chest, he pulled Cas hard against him while he grunted and thrust high and hard, helpless in the throes of orgasm.

When it was over, Dean weakly pushed himself back into the chair, Castiel sprawled bonelessly atop him. Dean slipped free from Castiel's body, and shifted Cas just enough to get rid of the condom, tying it off and dropping it on the floor. Cas turned in his arms, so that he was sitting sideways in his lap with his head cushioned on Dean's shoulder. They cuddled there for a time, enjoying the postcoital glow while their heart rates and breathing gradually slowed to back to normal.

Eventually though, they started to feel cold. So they dragged themselves up, cleaned up the evidence of their activity, and dressed in loose, comfortable clothing. Dean fed more wood to the fire, then they brought the big chair over by it, and settled in again. Dean had come to accept that he loved to cuddle with Castiel. Sitting there staring into the flames, with his love tucked up against him and his body humming with contentment from their recently shared pleasures, Dean couldn't imagine that life got any better than this.

* * *

After a delicious home-cooked breakfast the next morning, Dean and Castiel drove to the motel where Sam had spent the night. Ready and waiting, Sam tossed his duffel in the trunk, then climbed into the back seat. As Castiel passed Sam a coffee and some blueberry muffins kindly provided by the lady at the B&B, Dean's phone rang. Seeing Charlie's number on screen, he put her on speaker.

'Hey, Charlie. What's up?'

'Don't freak out.'

'Then don't open with that. Spill,' he commanded her.

'Kevin's off the reservation. I'm looking right at him, and he seems pretty miserable.'

'Fuck! Where are you?'

'I'm at comic-con. In New York.'

'What? What the hell?' Clearly, Kevin turning up in New York was no coincidence, but why on earth was he at a comic-con? And since when did those happen in New York, wasn't that a San Diego thing? 'What's Kevin doing there?'

'I don't think he's here voluntarily. He's sitting on a chair and there are a couple of people standing by him, who look like they're keeping an eye on him. He keeps glancing at the woman, like he knows her or something. They're all up on a raised platform, which is part of one of the major displays in the main concourse.'

By now, Dean had gotten the car moving rapidly toward the city. He had a sinking feeling about what had drawn Kevin from the safety of the bunker. 'Tell me about the woman.'

'Um, she's a little older, not very tall, Asian of some sort, maybe the same flavor as Kevin?'

Dean groaned, 'I'll say. I'm betting that's Linda Tran, Kevin's mom. I'd also lay good money on her being possessed, most likely by a demon. Who else is around, can you see anyone who looks like they're in charge?' Perversely, he was hoping for Crowley, at least he was a known element.

'There are a couple of people standing and talking by the stairs leading up to the platform; a tall blond guy who stands like someone shoved a pole up his ass, and a smokin' hot redhead.'

Yep, Lady Luck was being her usual bitchy self; she'd always had it in for them. 'Keep clear of them, Charlie! That's Abaddon, a Knight of Hell, and the guy is probably Bartholomew, the head-dick angel she's in bed with.'

'Whoa. Guess I won't ask for her number. What do you want me to do about Kevin?'

'Just hang back and observe for now. Given all the activity in the region, we drove up here to investigate, so we're actually not far away. We can reach the city in about an hour, where is this comic-con thing happening?'

'At the Javits Center, I'll text you the address.'

'We're gonna come in the back, try to avoid getting noticed. Don't trust the security guards, or anyone in authority, Charlie. You won't be able to tell if they're being ridden by angels or demons. Stay low, and keep us informed. Anything else look weird to you?'

'It's comic-con, Dean. Weird is the norm.'

'Don't be a smart-ass. You'd know if you saw something hinky.'

'Well, there do seem to be fewer costumed fans than usual, but that could just be a New York thing; this is not my usual scene.'

'I suppose you're wearing some crazy getup.'

'Well, duh. This is me you're talking to! You should see the effort some people put into their looks. I saw this zombie earlier, and wow, talk about your Nicotero level of makeup, he...'

'Charlie, focus!'

'Right, sorry. So yeah, the crowd is a little heavy on people in street clothes, but there's nothing really wrong with that. It's just an observation.'

'How big a crowd are we talking?'

'In this area? Not sure, several thousand anyway.'

'Several _thousand?'_

'Over 133,000 people attended the New York con last year, over four days. You do the math.'

Dean began to swear under his breath, because fuck! Talk about your potential for collateral damage. If the angels decided to get into it in the midst of all that, there'd be panic, people trampled, all kinds of mayhem. 'We know Malachi's been pulling his forces into this area, and if Bart's got his people there, we could be looking at the site of a major angelic throw-down. Anyone got any idea how we can clear the area?'

'Bomb threat?', Sam offered.

'Pull the fire alarm?', Charlie suggested.

'They'd handle that, smooth things over quick, if they're controlling the guys running things.'

'Better to stop it from happening,' Sam proffered. 'If we can find Kaia, she can take us to Malachi. We show him the numbers of angel deaths that have already occurred, point out Abaddon, try to convince him to pull out of the conflict.'

'We gotta try and get the Trans too, before Abaddon uses Kevin for whatever she needs him for; summoning Metatron, probably.'

'You think the blood of a prophet would be enough?', Sam wondered.

Castiel spoke for the first time, 'In combination with the tablets, yes.'

Dean swore again, 'Charlie, can you see if Kevin brought the tablets with him?'

'One sec, let me move to a better vantage point... Yeah, they're there. On a table near Kevin, next to a big, brass bowl and a bunch of herbs.'

'One douchebag-angel summoning spell, check. Dammit, I thought we had more time. If she's planning on casting the possession spell today, she's gonna need a lot of angel deaths to happen in a short period of time.'

Sam's voice was grim, 'Step on it, Dean.'

* * *

Dean cruised slowly along the front length of the Javits Center, getting the lay of the land before finding a place to park. The freaking building was huge, taking up a full four city blocks, and New York City liked its blocks big. And geez, the entire thing looked to be made of glass, a friggin' crystal palace. He added glass shrapnel to his already too-long list of potential problems.

Dean turned right onto West 34th street, to start searching for a side or back entrance. His heart sank at the sight of a long line of fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars parked along the side of the street. Fuck, were they too late? 'Sam, check with Charlie. Find out what's going on inside.'

Finding an open spot in front of the emergency vehicles, Dean quickly parked and they all got out, looking around for signs of trouble. Sam reported that Charlie hadn't seen any, and then they were being approached by a police officer. He didn't even glance at their FBI badges though, just stared at Sam and Dean a minute, then told them to wait there.

The next to approach them was a familiar, but unwelcome figure. 'Hello, boys.'

'Crowley. What are you doing here?'

'Why, this is where the fun is, Squirrel! You didn't think I'd miss out on the big show, did you?'

'You gonna help us stop Abaddon?'

'No, I just want a ring-side seat. You lot take your best shot, and I'll be here to pick up the pieces when you fail.'

Dean glanced at the police officer standing a little ways behind Crowley. The man smirked, and flashed black eyes at him. 'You controlling cops again, Crowley?'

'And all these other fine folk in uniform; a few reporter types too. My spies tell me that there's going to be a big battle today, and angels are not known for subtlety. You just know they're going to show their knickers to everyone, and without someone to provide some spin, we'll end up with a bunch of believers on our hands. That's just not good for business.'

'So, what? You're gonna throw these civilians into the mix? They'll get slaughtered.'

'No, no. We're going to wait out here until it's all over. Then we'll whisk away the bodies, control the crowd, and tell the gullible public that what went down here today was just a stunt meant to promote the new show, Angel Wars.'

'There's no such show.'

'Actually, there is. I'm a producer, and I even directed the pilot episode. I must say, I rather enjoyed that. Angel Wars premieres in January, watch for it.'

Dean just stared at Crowley for a minute, marveling at the way his mind worked. Then he shook himself out of it, they had a mission to complete. 'Whatever. You can cower out here; we're going in.'

'Now hang on, I am willing to provide a little help. I didn't like it when I thought Abaddon was only after my crown. Letting her ascend to godhood would be monumentally worse.' He turned to Sam, 'Here, take this. It might help you get close to her.' Crowley held out a slim-barreled handgun, keeping it carefully pointed at the ground.

Slowly, Sam reached out and took it. 'How so?'

'I recognize this weapon,' Castiel said. 'You have melted more angel blades into bullets?'

'Eh, the silver swords are easier to come by, these days.' He passed a Sam a small bag whose contents clicked as they moved against each other. 'You have what's in the gun, plus another twenty. They'll kill both angels and demons, if you hit something vital. Slow 'em down, either way. They're all engraved with Devil's Traps too, I heard about the way you used that to get Abby to hold still while you cut off her head. Be a love, and try to get at least one of these into her.'

'Um, sure. Thanks?', Sam offered. Dean looked at the gun in Sam's hand, then back at Crowley in a speculative manner.

Crowley scowled, 'Don't get any funny ideas. You can't afford to waste even a single one of those bullets, much as I'm sure you'd like to take a shot at me.'

Dean sighed, regretting the truth of it. Still, if they had any left over at the end of the day... His thoughts were interrupted by Charlie, who was waving at them from a nearby doorway.

'Yo, MIB! Get your butts in here.' Sure enough, she was clad in some sort of medieval outfit, though the knee-high boots and form-fitting green bodice of the leather armor weren't very true to the period. Neither were the low-slung leather pants, and were those elf ears? She half-turned to look inside, and showed that she also had two daggers, almost large enough to be called short swords, strapped across her back. 'Hurry up, before they notice I'm holding the door!'

Dean opened his mouth to get in a parting shot at Crowley, only to find that he'd disappeared. Instead, he said, 'Right, let's go find out what we're dealing with.'

They followed Charlie inside, only to pull up short, overwhelmed. They'd entered a vast space, which was absolutely teeming with people. Most were in street clothes, but there were a fair number of costumed fans mixed in. Dean cast admiring eyes over a very passable Batman outfit, as its wearer swaggered by. The crowd milled amongst a myriad of displays promoting not just comics, but TV shows, web series, and anything else that had gained popularity in the geek world. The ones with the biggest draw merited the few large, raised platforms.

While they were letting their senses adjust to the chaos around them, Charlie had moved to stand next to a woman none of them had met before. Dean stared at the stranger, thinking that she looked vaguely familiar. She was wearing black leather pants, a bright red jacket over a white blouse, and a large floppy red hat. Then it hit him, she'd come as Theodora, the Wicked Witch of the West, from that truly awful Oz the Great and Powerful flick he'd wasted two hours of his life on. Aside from the fact that she looked great in the outfit, why would anyone want to impersonate a witch?

Looking kind of nervous, Charlie put an arm around her. 'Guys, I'd like you to meet a new friend of mine, Dorothy. Dorth, this is Sam, Dean, and Castiel.'

The witch nodded at them, and spoke in a low, smoky voice, 'A pleasure.'

'Nice meeting you, but we need to borrow Charlie for a minute...'

'It's okay, Dean. Dorothy's a Hunter too, and she's up to speed on everything. You can speak freely in front of her.'

'Oh. Well, good; she can keep you out of trouble. Although, given her choice of role models, maybe it's the other way around?'

'Don't worry, I'm not wicked,' Dorothy purred. 'Well, not very.'

'Come on, Kevin's over here,' Charlie started to lead them away, but Dean halted her with a hand on her arm.

'Hang on a minute, first things first. Sam?'

'On it.' He pulled out his phone and started texting. It didn't take long to receive a reply, 'Kaia's here, she's coming to find us.'

Soon enough, they were able to make out the tall blond, striding toward them as though the crowd around her didn't exist. 'Ooh, I'd love to dress her as a Valkyrie,' Charlie breathed.

'Right?', Dean grinned at her, pleased that she'd seen it too. 'That's Kaia, Ezekiel actually, used to work with Cas.'

In fact, she walked up to Castiel as though reporting to him, though her eyes had been on Sam up until then. 'Greetings, Castiel.'

'Hello, Kaia. What can you tell us of the situation here?'

'Many of our forces have gathered within this building. Bartholomew has amassed troops here as well. We await only the command to engage.'

'We wish to speak with Malachi. Can you take us to him?'

'Yes, certainly. Please follow me.'

Before they could move a step though, the crowd reacted with interest to something going on in the direction Charlie had been about to take them. Thinking quickly, she marched up to Kaia, turned her back, then looked over her shoulder at the angel and made an upward gesture. 'Little help?'

Kaia caught on immediately, and putting her hands around Charlie's waist, easily lifted her high. From there, Charlie could see what was happening on the platform where Kevin was being held. Abaddon had ahold of his arm, and blood was dripping from it into the bowl she held. 'Uh oh, Abaddon's started the summoning spell. If we're gonna do something, we'd better do it fast.'

'Shit, we'd better split up. Sam, you go with Kaia, get Malachi to stop the madness. Cas and I will try to rescue Kevin and Mrs. Tran. Charlie, you hang back here with Dorothy, just stay safely out of the way.' Dropping back to the floor, Charlie scowled at Dean, but didn't argue.

Sam passed the gun and ammo Crowley'd given him to Dean, 'Here, you take this. You're more likely to need it.'

'Right. Come on, Cas.' The four of them plunged into the crowd, but events weren't waiting on them. Through there was no signal Dean could detect, all around them silver swords were dropping into hands, and suddenly, battle was joined. Screams, both of fear and of joy, erupted as the regular humans reacted, some thinking the combat real but most assuming it to be staged.

Either way, pockets opened up in the crowd as people moved back to allow the many duelists room. Some fights were over swiftly, ending with bright flares of escaping Grace and one of the combatants on the ground with a smoking hole in him or her and wing impressions burned into the floor. Other, better matched opponents circled and feinted, looking for an advantage.

Kaia was attacked by three men at once, and she fought furiously, holding them off. They ignored Sam, unaware that he too carried an angel blade. That let him catch one of the far faster, stronger angels by surprise, just as he would have stabbed Kaia from behind. Instead, Sam ran him through, though he cursed at helping Abaddon achieve her ends by providing another angel death. To keep Sam alive, Kaia was forced to kill the other two as well.

Dean and Castiel moved unhindered until they got fairly close to the platform where Abaddon was chanting and gesturing. The fighting was thicker there, and Castiel was forced to engage an angel who would have stabbed him for simply getting in his way. Being human, Castiel was forced to make a quick kill, only his superior skill with a sword enough to keep him alive long enough to do so. Dean backed him up, firing into several sword-wielding attackers that had turned on the new threat. Castiel killed another that was too focused on reaching Dean while he struggled to reload.

Though he was too busy to be able to do anything about it, Dean's heart clenched as he caught sight of Charlie, who'd clearly disregarded orders to stay out of the fight. She was crouched beneath the stairs leading up to the platform, chanting something and looking upward. When black smoke began to pour from Mrs. Tran's throat, he realized that it was an exorcism.

Standing next to her, Bartholomew impassively watched the vessel collapse, then gestured for a nearby angel to take care of Charlie. Dean shouted a warning, but couldn't get a clear shot. Dorothy raised her hands, and a ball of red fire burst from them, impacting the angel's chest and throwing him through the air. Without missing a beat, she grabbed the blade he'd dropped and tossed it up onto the platform.

Though she'd had barely a moment to recover after being freed from demonic possession, Linda Tran was not one to let a golden opportunity slip by. Snatching up the blade, she lunged up from the floor, burying the silver sword deep in the heart of a stunned Bartholomew. She turned away, shielding her eyes as grace-light streamed from his eyes, mouth, and wound. She didn't bother to watch as he dropped, lifeless; she went to free her son.

Seemingly unaware of their leader's death, Bartholomew's forces fought on. Though the fighting had been mostly one-on-one at first, the tide was beginning to turn. Every time an angel fell, its dropped sword was snatched up by one of Abaddon's demons, and soon Malachi's forces were each facing multiple opponents. They fought bravely, but flares of light bloomed all throughout the room as the death toll mounted.

At the far end of the concourse, Sam and Kaia had reached Malachi. Being one of his generals, she was allowed to approach, and Sam launched into the argument he'd painstakingly prepared in the car. He showed Malachi his phone app, where the lurid red numbers were rapidly climbing, already nearing nine hundred. But, despite the clarity of his reasoning, Malachi would not be swayed from his purpose. Then Sam fell back in surprise as Kaia suddenly stepped forward.

'I challenge you, Malachi. Your ambition blinds you; you are not worthy to lead.'

'Accepted.' And with no more warning than that, Malachi attacked. Sam dove out of the way of the fight, and by the time he turned back around, it was all over. Kaia stood triumphant, Malachi dead on the floor at her feet. Sam felt a surge of pride, she was badass!

Kaia issued commands in Enochian, and all over the floor, fighters disengaged, backing away from their opponents. Closing ranks, they attempted a strategic retreat, going for non-fatal blows if forced to fight. Furious, Abaddon shrieked a command. Her demons suddenly turned on their former allies, plunging their stolen swords into the unsuspecting angels.

Reaching the edge of the chest-high platform, Castiel hauled himself up onto it, then reached down for Dean. Dean shot two more opponents, then scrambled up, getting back to his feet just as Metatron appeared between them and Abaddon. Dean and Castiel stumbled back as a ring of fire suddenly burst into existence around Metatron. Abaddon was burning holy oil to keep the angel trapped.

Dean's phone sounded an alarm, warning them that the angel deaths had reached one thousand. He raised his gun and fired the last of his bullets at Abaddon, but she was already smoking out of her vessel and heading for Metatron. Dean damned himself for stupidity, he should have shot the angel! While Abaddon was forcing herself down Metatron's throat, Dean and Cas jumped the through the line of fire and plunged their angel blades into Metatron's chest and belly.

Abaddon looked down at the swords impaling her new vessel, then smiled, and grabbed a fistful of each of their shirts. 'I think I'll eat your souls first.' In what was clearly a prearranged move, one of the demons doused a segment of the flames. With a flap of invisible wings, Abaddon disappeared, taking Dean and Castiel with him.


	14. Transformation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel face off against Abaddon.

Abaddon released them, and Dean and Castiel fell backward, sprawling on the ground. They scrambled to their feet, backing away. Their swords were held up in a defensive posture, in spite of the knowledge that the weapons were ineffective against the powerful, infernal angel.

While keeping most of his attention on Abaddon, Dean also glanced quickly around, getting his bearings. He recognized their surroundings from his previous visit; they were in the Garden, in Heaven. Fuck, talk about being cut off from backup.

Abaddon, wounds already healed over, was looking curiously around, triumph written all over his face. He reached out to caress the verdant foliage of a nearby bush, and the entire plant withered, dying leaves curling and shrinking away from his touch. It seemed to please him, but his attention soon returned to the two men standing warily nearby.

'You should hear Metatron,' Abaddon chuckled, 'he's totally losing his shit right now. Do you know, he never considered that he wasn't the hero of this story? All that time spent reading, and he never realized that every character thinks that he is? Tsk. Poor little pawn that wished to be King. He'll just have to settle for being along for the ride.'

'You're not the hero of the story either, Abaddon. You're just the bad guy.' Dean tried to speak with conviction, even though a part of him was gibbering, _'We are so FUCKED!'_

Castiel had been looking around as well, a slight frown on his face. He stepped closer to Dean, shoulder to shoulder as they both kept a close eye on the gloating Abaddon. Cas spoke, so softly that Dean could barely hear him, 'This is not the Garden, Dean. It's your memory of it.'

And just like that, the realization burst through him. Abaddon was stepping toward them, hands reaching out to what? Smite them? Suck their souls? Dean yanked his thoughts away from what Abaddon was about to do, closed his eyes, and focused every atom of his being on a particular memory.

At a jubilant noise from Cas, Dean's eyes popped open, and he saw to his vast relief that everything had changed. He and Cas now stood in an abandoned barn, a shocked looking Abaddon bound to a chair before them. Though he'd remembered the scene featuring Abaddon's female vessel, it had still worked. Metatron's hands were in a box on the nearby table, and presumably the Devil's Trap bullet was buried in his skull.

'Yeah!', Dean shouted. 'Welcome to my Heaven, bitch!'

'This will hold him but a moment, Dean,' Castiel warned. 'But thank you for giving me the opportunity to mete out some richly deserved justice.' With that, Cas stepped forward, and slashed his blade across Metatron's throat. Grace-light bled from the wound, and Castiel inhaled, drawing it into himself.

'Oh, shit!' Dean dove for cover as Castiel began to glow. He had no idea if his memory of a wooden stall could shield him at all, but he huddled behind its wall nevertheless, eyes clenched tight against the brilliant burst of light that marked Castiel's rebirth as an angel. When he dared to peek out, he saw a black-eyed Abaddon, vessel fully restored, launch himself out of the chair.

Castiel didn't hang about waiting to be attacked, Abaddon was still deadly dangerous. In a move so fast it knocked all the breath from Dean's body, he grabbed his lover and fled. He and Dean landed on a beach, an endless stretch of white sand and tranquil sea on either side of them, a bright, cloudless blue sky above.

'What'd you do that for?', Dean cried. 'Maybe the blades woulda worked now!' Then he registered how pale Castiel was, just before the angel reeled and crashed to his knees. Dean fell to his knees before him, and grasped his shoulders. 'Cas! What's wrong?'

Castiel was sweating, and his face was pinched with pain. 'I stole Metatron's Grace.'

'Yeah, totally badass move, man! Told you we'd get your mojo back.'

'You don't understand, Dean. I _stole_ his Grace.' He looked like he was about to puke it back up.

'But, why is that bad? When we talked about you taking on the Grace of another angel, you never said it would be a problem.'

'If I had taken in Grace that had been long removed from its original host, I would have been fine. The resonance would have had time to fade, back to a neutral state. This Grace is still attuned to Metatron, and at the time it was taken from him, he was feeling extreme malice. His Grace is therefore hostile to me.'

'What does that mean?', Dean couldn't help the note of fear that crept into his voice. 'Are you going to be alright?' Castiel looked away, and the small kernel of fear in Dean's chest burst into full bloom. He gave Castiel's shoulders a little shake, 'Talk to me, Cas!'

'I will return you to the bunker...'

'And what? You'll fly away? Leave me again?' The very thought was enough to make him go cold.

Castiel's eyes, blazing now, snapped back to meet his. 'Don't you think I would stay with you if I could? There isn't going to be anything left of me, Dean. Metatron's Grace will burn me out, consume my soul and everything else that makes me, me. In the end, what remains will be a new angel, one with no memory of what came before. Should you ever see me, this vessel again, you must remember that. He will not know you.'

Dean gasped in horror, it was so much worse than he'd thought. 'Get rid of it!', he blurted. 'Be human again!'

Castiel was slowly hunching forward, curling around some internal pain. 'I cannot. It has become enmeshed with my soul, attacking it. I can't separate them, to expel the Grace alone. Ripping out both would kill me.'

Dean was starting to panic, 'There must be something we can do!'

'There is nothing,' Castiel said, but his eyes flickered and Dean caught it.

'Bullshit! You know of a way. Tell me!'

'No. It's too dangerous.'

'Dangerous for who? You mean me? There's something I can do to help? If there is, Cas, you gotta let me! I can't lose you again. I _can't.'_

'No, Dean! If it failed, you wouldn't just be killed. Your soul would be destroyed, just like mine.'

'Then we'd go out together. I'm okay with that.'

'I'm not! You can't ask me to risk you that way, Dean. I won't do it.'

Dean struggled against his growing panic. It was threatening to shut down his higher brain functions, when he needed them now more than ever. He had to think, had to find a way to convince his stupid, stubborn angel to let him help!

'You can't ask me to do nothing, to just let you burn!' Tears stung his eyes, 'I'm begging you, Cas. I couldn't live with myself, knowing I could have stopped it. You've got to let me try!'

'It's okay, Dean. In time, you'll...'

'No! No, no, _no.'_ Desperate, Dean crushed his mouth against Castiel's, his finger digging into dark, windblown hair. Salt flavored their kiss, and he realized he was crying. He pulled back to rest his forehead against Cas', 'I will never get over losing you, don't you get that? Knowing that you were truly gone, that I'd never see you again, it would _break_ me. I'd go dark side, end up in Hell, and no one would be coming to rescue me this time. Christ, I'd probably end up running the joint, with Crowley as my lapdog.'

Castiel's mouth quirked a little, a thread of amusement breaking through the angst. 'A fate worse than death, to be sure.'

'Exactly! So, you wouldn't just be saving yourself, you'd be saving me. We're in this together Cas, all the way. Tell me how to help you. Please. _Please.'_

Castiel stared at him with tears in his eyes, wavering. He wanted so desperately to live, to stay with Dean, but the risk! Tenderly, he wiped tears from Dean's cheeks. 'What about Sam? If you die...'

'He doesn't need me anymore. Sam's a grown man, and one hell of a Hunter; he'll be just fine. Though I'd rather we didn't just disappear, and leave him to wonder for the rest of his life what became of us.'

Castiel nodded, 'I can contact Kaia, let her know what we are about to attempt. She could let your brother know, if she does not hear from us again.'

Dean caught his breath, hope nearly as painful as the fear had been. 'Then you'll let me help you?'

Castiel closed his eyes, nearly defeated, 'You must be _very_ sure, Dean.' He reopened his eyes, pinning Dean under an intense stare. 'If you do this, even if it works, you will be bound to me for all eternity. I can share the Grace with you, but you cannot handle it as a human. I would have to change you at a cellular level, remake you in a fundamental way. You may not survive this process. In fact, neither of us have a chance unless we also share our strength. This would require a soul bond, which would be permanent. It would last beyond the death of these bodies, you could never be apart from me again.'

A wild joy spread through Dean, chasing out the cold. 'Not seeing the downside, Cas. If you're asking me to angel-marry you, I'm saying yes.'

Castiel's breath caught, and two tears slipped down his cheeks. 'Beloved,' he choked.

Dean leaned in and kissed him again, tender and slow this time. Castiel's hands cradled his jaw, as he worshipped Dean's mouth in return. But then he broke away, groaning in pain. Dean clutched at him, fear flooding back, 'We need to do this now, before you're too far gone.'

Panting, Castiel nodded, giving in. 'Remove your clothes, please. It will be easier for me if I do not have to distinguish your molecules from the fabric's.'

Dean surged to his feet, and began to rapidly disrobe. He grinned down at his bridegroom, 'Don't make me be naked alone, Cas. What do the Wiccans call it, going skyclad? It's supposed to be appropriate for important rituals.'

Castiel smiled back at him, and climbed clumsily to his feet. He shrugged out of his suit jacket, and reached with shaking fingers for the buttons of his dress shirt.

'Here, let me.' Having tossed his clothing off to the side, Dean stepped forward to help Castiel remove his. He undressed him gently, Castiel steadying himself with a hand on Dean's shoulder as he knelt to remove Cas' shoes, socks, and pants. Castiel's face was remote, and Dean assumed he was giving Kaia the heads-up. As Dean put the last of the clothing aside, Castiel sagged back to the ground. They ended up facing one another, kneeling naked in the warm sand.

'Are you ready, Dean?'

Cocky as ever, Dean grinned at him, 'Lemme have it.' Castiel hesitated, looking scared, and Dean put his hands back on Cas' shoulders. 'Hey, this is going to work, okay? I trust you. I love you.'

'I love you, too.' Castiel drew a deep breath, bracing himself. He leaned toward Dean, hands cupping his face again, bringing their mouths close together. He breathed an apology against Dean's lips, 'I'm sorry, Dean. This will hurt.' Then he fed Grace from his mouth to Dean's.

He'd asked for this, Dean did his best to remember, as Castiel poured fire down his throat. He'd been to Hell, he knew how to endure pain, and he was saving Castiel's life. Those were the thoughts he held to as the internal burn spread, Grace eating at him like acid. Strong as he was, he was soon screaming, body writhing in Castiel's hands.

The terrible, incandescent light inexorably spread, invading every cell, searing, blazing, _burning_. He'd have told Cas he'd changed his mind, that he couldn't do it, if he could have controlled his body enough to form words. Instead, trapped inside his mind he was crying, begging, ohpleaseohpleasestop pleasepleaseyougotta toomuch stopstopcan'ttakeit ohgodohgod helpHELPme nomorenonoNO CaspleasePLEASE noNOstop can'tHELPno _PLEASE_ stopstopstopSTOP _STOP!!!_

But it didn't stop, it got worse, so very _very_ much worse. Dean lost all awareness of the outside world, not hearing how his screams turned to shrieks, not feeling his every muscle lock in spasm, eyes gone blind. His whole world had turned to fire; there was nothing but the light, and the light was nothing but pain.

Even Hell hadn't been this bad, never so much at once, the pain never so all-consuming. Dean's sanity began to fray. He strained desperately for escape, but could find no surcease, no moment of respite that might allow him to regroup. His will crumbled to dust, and if he could have formed a coherent thought, he'd have begged every god in creation for death.

The agony was unendurable, but it would. not. stop. Dean lost his sense of self, forgot that anything existed but pain, and the desire to escape it. He put everything he had left into an effort to pull away, to fight his way free, and felt himself stretched impossibly thin, at the end of a leash about to snap. If only it would, he knew, he could find the blessed, empty dark, where the pain could not follow.

But something was trying to follow him, someone? Someone who was crying, sobbing, clearly heartbroken. Dean paused on the precipice of extinction, a compulsion to comfort momentarily overcoming the awareness of his own torment. That cleared his mind enough to realize with a jolt that it was Castiel. Cas was in pain too, reaching for him, desperately calling his name.

Unable to bear the thought of Cas hurting, he reached back, and felt himself brush up against something. A connection flared to life, and he barely had time to recognize that it was Castiel when he felt himself seized, enveloped, clung to by a desperate soul. Suddenly he was able to _feel_ Cas' terrible fear, his overwhelming guilt and grief.

Dean poured love and comfort through the connection, and felt it strengthen. Relief and joy radiated back at him, and the tide of pain finally receded, pushed away by the touch of a loving soul. Relieved beyond measure, Dean crowded closer to Castiel, immersing himself in the incredible peace and comfort that was being offered him.

Dean was still surrounded by endless light, but now it was gentle, nurturing, as comforting as a mother's hug. The light was in him too, but it no longer burned. It poured through him like liquid gold, and wherever it touched, pleasure bloomed. Dean felt himself drawn back from whatever distant place he'd been, lured in by the cascading bliss.

He could still feel Castiel too, feel him climbing into ecstasy with Dean. They wound around and through one another, pleasure spiralling higher as they grew ever closer. Tension mounted, building to an impossible peak, until, in an explosion of rapture, they merged completely.

Though he'd just been nothing but incorporeal awareness, Dean seemed to be back at home now, back in his body. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, and found himself being stared at with incredible intensity, Castiel's face mere inches from his own. 'Heya, Cas,' he whispered, expecting his voice to be a scream-wrecked rasp, but he sounded like himself.

' _Dean_ ,' Castiel breathed, a wealth of meaning in the single syllable.

Dean's eyes widened as he not only heard the tenderness, joy, and love, he _felt_ them. Amusement welled, not his own, and he realized that he was feeling _Cas._ 'Holy shit! I guess it worked, huh?' He became aware that he was still kneeling in front of Castiel, and that his fingers had dug divots into the poor man's shoulders. Quickly, he pulled them free of the abused flesh, 'Oh man, sorry!'

Castiel blinked at him, then dissolved into laughter. Apparently, the sheer absurdity of Dean apologizing to Cas for hurting him, after Castiel had just taken Dean apart down to the last atom, was beyond funny. The hilarity echoing across the link was enough to send Dean into gales of laughter right along with him.

They collapsed against one another, hugging and giggling uncontrollably. Dean's arms went around Castiel, sliding up his back. He stilled abruptly as his hands bumped into something protruding from the flesh. Stunned, he leaned back, staring. Castiel smiled gently, and brought his wings up, flaring them wide for his love to admire. Dean goggled, flooding Castiel with his awe.

'Oh my god. Cas, you have _wings!'_ He'd known that, of course, Cas had flown them here. Castiel had had wings for most of the time he'd known him, but even with all the flitting about, it was easy to forget that when they were invisible all the time. He'd only gotten that one glimpse that first night, and then only of their shadow. Now he could really see them, and they were glorious. Blue-black feathers gleamed like obsidian in the sunlight, fluffed out in proud display. Black was the predominant hue, but the underwing covert feathers were a band of accent color, the same crystal blue as Castiel's eyes.

'Dean,' Castiel's gentle voice tugged his attention back. Reluctantly, he dragged his gaze away from the objects of his fascination, to see what he wanted. Castiel was grinning at him, and absolutely brimming with delight. 'So do you.'

That didn't compute for a second. Then he nearly gave himself whiplash trying to look over his own shoulder. His body reacted automatically, his new appendages moving in a startled flap. He'd have fallen on his ass, on his _wings,_ if Castiel wasn't holding onto him. 'Holy FUCK!'

'Dean,' Castiel chided.

'Sorry, sorry! Just, you know, _holy fuck!'_ Heaven probably wasn't the best place to be swearing like that, but nothing else could adequately express his shock. He hadn't put it together, that taking on half of Castiel's Grace might result in some seriously cool perks.

Experimentally, he tried to stretch them out, and was thrilled when the wings responded. He tried curling them forward, and that worked too. He reached out to grasp his own wing, shocked anew to not only feel feathers, warm and alive beneath his fingers, but to also feel the touch upon his wing, through his wing.

Castiel stood up, and tugged Dean to his feet. Dean's wings automatically flared out again, helping him to balance. Now it was Castiel's turn to register awe, 'Oh, Dean. So beautiful!'

Dean's wings were a rich, golden brown, like those of a hawk. The color deepened toward the edges, all the way to black at the tips of the primaries. He too had a band of accent color that echoed his eyes, the underwing feathers a gorgeous green.

'May I touch them?', Castiel asked.

'Only if I get a turn with yours,' Dean grinned. His wings had automatically fallen into a neutral position, and he was surprised at how natural they felt, tucked up against his back. 'Sure, go ahead.' He was startled by the incredible surge of anticipation that went through Castiel at the permission.

Castiel's wings had lowered as well, but now they rose again, poised with anticipation as if Cas was about to leap into flight. He reached a hand over Dean's shoulder, and Dean automatically raised his wings as well, bringing them up to meet his touch. Castiel closed his fingers over the upward curving arch, and stroked gently along it.

Dean nearly went to his knees again, flooded with electric sensation. He cried out, head thrown back and wings spasming, hands desperately grasping at Cas' arms for support. He was also instantly hard, the surge that had gone through him bringing his whole body to full alert. 'Shit! Wait, wait, gimme a sec,' he panted.

Castiel stilled his hand, but didn't remove it. He watched Dean with predatory intent, waiting for the go-ahead to continue. Wide-eyed, Dean braced himself, then nodded. Cas brought his left hand up, and repeated the motion along Dean's right wing.

'Fuck!', Dean yelled, shaking at the sensory onslaught. Christ, who knew wings were a goddamn giant erogenous zone? He was as affected as he'd been as a virgin, the first time a girl had touched his dick. More, because he could feel Castiel's response as he reacted to his touch. Lust surged across the link, and looking down, he could see that Cas was as hard as he was.

Castiel shuddered as Dean stepped forward, bringing their naked bodies into full-frontal contact. Dean's arms went around him again, hands deliberately seeking out his wings this time. Strong fingers sank into his feathers, and his hips thrust forward in helpless response to the lighting-bolt shock of it. 'Oh god, Dean!'

Dean mewled, grinding his own hips forward with a level of desperation he'd never felt. His link with Castiel was wide open, and he was not only feeling Cas' emotional responses, he could feel what he felt physically, too. It was beyond mind-blowing. Suddenly, he had two of everything, two bodies, two set of hands buried in two sets of wings, two rigid cocks throbbing and rubbing. Everything was heightened and magnified to such a degree that he was sure he was about to lose his mind.

Castiel was no better off. Moaning deliriously, he dragged his hands through Dean's feathers, and Dean's hands clenched in Cas' wings. Their lips met in a fevered kiss, bodies writhing against each other, and suddenly it was all too much. Both trembling sets of wings flared as wide as they could go, as a tremendous climax roared through them.

Dean was sobbing for air, vision whited out, his body pushed hard against Castiel. Both of them were coming like crazy, huge hot pulses of come pushing into the tight space between their bodies. He felt his knees dissolve, and collapsed onto the warm sand. Castiel followed him down, pushing forward so that Dean fell back, onto his wings. The shock of that new sensation was enough to bring him back to a semblance of coherency, and he stared up at Castiel with awe.

Castiel hovered over Dean, weight on his knees and the hands planted in the sand beside Dean's head. He grinned at Dean's gobsmacked expression, 'I had heard of this effect. Wings add a certain erotic element, do they not?'

'Understatement of the fucking century, Cas! And what's with the double-the-fun bit?'

'The soul bond, coupled with our shared Grace, allows us to experience everything the other feels. I can restrict it to some degree, so that we'll be able to function as separate beings, but we will always be aware of one another. And when the bond is allowed to flourish to its fullest, we are as one being with two bodies, which is what we just experienced.'

'Damn, if sex is going to be like that from now on, it's a good thing we're a lot harder to kill! I'd be dead of a heart attack within days, otherwise.'

'Oh, you'll find your stamina is much increased,' Castiel purred.

Castiel rocked his pelvis against him, and Dean was shocked to find that his cock immediately began to fill. Holy crap, that was a refractory period on a par with a woman's! Did that mean they got the multiple orgasms, too? 'We can go again, already?', he squeaked.

'As often and as many times as we'd like,' Castiel responded, leaning in for a kiss.

'Awesome,' Dean nearly growled with eagerness. He was definitely up for another round. He pulled Cas down onto him, fingers reaching once again for those amazing, electric wings. Castiel moaned and writhed atop him, and Dean could feel the way sparks shot from his wings down his spine, straight to his cock.

Castiel abruptly sat back, and motioned for Dean to turn over. Dean hesitated, looking at the sticky mess on his chest and belly; he wasn't eager to add sand to that mix. But he'd forgotten, Cas had mojo at his command again, and with a thought, they were both clean and fresh. Dean was thrilled, that was going to come in damn handy!

Castiel reached out a hand to help Dean sit up, as he was clearly unsure of how to move without damaging his wings. 'Don't worry, Dean. Your wings are not delicate. They look and feel something like bird wings, because that is what your mind expects them to be. But they are actually manifestations of Grace, and little short of our blades can hurt them.'

'So that's why they're so sensitive?'

'Yes, we are caressing one another's essence, directly.'

'Whoo, no wonder you keep them hidden most of the time.'

'Indeed. I'll show you how to do that.'

'Show me later, when we're not both hard. Shit, I wish we had some lube.'

'Turn around, Dean. There's something else I wish to show you.'

Curious, Dean pivoted on his knees so that he was facing away from Castiel. He almost smacked him with a wing in passing, but Cas saw it coming and ducked under it. Castiel indicated that he should get on all fours, and he complied, his wings relaxing out to his sides. He couldn't help looking curiously at them, still hardly able to believe they were his.

While Dean was distracted by his own wings, Castiel made some minute changes to his body. Then, lining himself up, he abruptly thrust deep. Dean shouted in shock, his head and wings shooting up.

For a split second, Dean expected to feel pain from the sudden intrusion. But all he'd actually felt was the surge of pleasure Castiel had experienced. Castiel drew back, and slammed himself into Dean again, and again Dean felt nothing but intense pleasure. He realized he was as slick and open as if Cas had spent a good twenty minutes prepping him. 'Cas, what?', he gasped out.

'Grace has other fun applications, Dean. We no longer have any need of artificial lubrication, our bodies can be manipulated into producing it. The stretching process can be foregone as well, the anus can be as tight or as loose as we wish.' To prove it, Castiel grabbed his hips, and began to pound into Dean's ass.

Dean was shocked to feel himself actually get even more wet, just like women he'd been with, as they got more turned on. He'd have worried that Cas was turning him into a girl, if his brain wasn't busy melting down. Castiel knew by now just how to angle his hips to nail Dean's prostate, and he was going to town on it. And Dean could feel how good his tight heat felt sliding along Castiel's dick. Panting and clawing at the sand, Dean was already hovering on the edge of his second orgasm.

Castiel leaned forward, running his hands up Dean's back to the base of his wings. Grabbing on, he pulled against them, using the leverage to ream Dean even harder. Overcome, Dean yowled and seized in orgasm. He clenched around Castiel, who also locked up, spurting warmth deep into Dean.

Dean would have collapsed into the come-splattered sand, but Castiel pulled him backward by the base of his wings. Shocking sensation spread from every point of contact between his wings and Castiel's chest. Castiel was still rock hard inside him, and he realized that his erection hadn't flagged, either. Castiel began to rock his hips in long, slow thrusts, and Dean moaned deliriously, feeling himself begin the climb to orgasm once again.

Castiel clasped Dean tightly, reaching around to play with his nipples while he continued his languid thrusts. Dean writhed, his trapped wings twitching and trembling, every motion sending intense bolts of sensation through them both. Dean couldn't even form words, reduced to helpless little cries. ' _Ah, ah, Ca-hah-as, ah AH',_ he panted, eyes rolling in his head.

Castiel's control was failing, his thrusts growing more rapid and erratic. He lowered one hand to grasp Dean's dick, and buried the other in a wing. Two strong tugs on both, and Dean screamed, arching hard into Castiel while come erupted from his pulsing cock. Castiel screamed too, as Dean's climax propelled his system into a massive orgasm.

This time, Castiel allowed a normal, human response to take over their bodies, letting a pleasurable exhaustion wash over them. Dean fell forward, rolling as he went so that he ended up sprawled on his back, chest heaving. Castiel cleaned them up again, then lay along Dean's side, cuddling close. One dark wing stretched forward, spreading out over Dean's chest in an echo of the way Castiel's arm clasped him.

Dean was surprised to find that Castiel's weight on his wing did not hurt in any way. In fact, as long as Cas didn't move, the gentle pressure felt comforting. He lay staring up into the bright, blank sky, not even trying to process everything that had just happened. He was completely brain-fried.

Normally, at this point, sleep would have overwhelmed them both. But, although their systems slowed back to a normal rate, and they were bonelessly relaxed, sleep did not come. They lay in a blissed-out embrace for a timeless period, just listening to the waves break on the shore. Dean's first coherent thought was the startled realization that this must always have been what it was like for Castiel, when he was an angel. Did they no longer need sleep? Would he no longer be able to? That notion was just a bit alarming.

'We can sleep if we wish, Dean; being human for a time allowed me to understand the appeal. Although Grace can sustain us without it, we are more connected to our soul-imbued bodies than angels generally are to their vessels. It means that we can still experience things as a human would, but without it being a biological requirement.'

'Reading my mind now too, Cas?'

'I can almost hear you. I think, if we work at projecting to each other, that such may well be possible. Just now though, I felt your disquiet and inferred its cause.'

'Hmm, I'm glad sleep isn't off the table. I can't imagine being awake forever; drove poor Sam to the looney bin. What about eating?'

'The same; we can, but won't need to. Even though we share the Grace of a single angel, it should be enough to maintain our bodies indefinitely. As fond as I am of your outer form, it pleases me greatly to be able to see your soul once more. Yours is still the most beautiful one I have ever encountered.'

'Oh wow, can I see souls now?'

'I don't know, why don't you try?' Castiel sat up, and Dean followed.

Dean stared at Cas, trying not to get distracted by the wings he could still see. 'What do I do?'

'I'm not sure I can describe it. It's like focusing your eyes in a different way, looking within instead of at the exterior of the person in front of you.'

Dean stared harder, but that didn't help. Instead, he tried relaxing his gaze, letting his eyes lose focus. Slowly, he became aware of a glow surrounding Castiel; if he looked at it too hard, it disappeared. He took a deep breath and relaxed again, not looking at anything in particular. He thought about how wonderful Cas was, how much he loved him, and almost jumped at the way Castiel lit up.

Suddenly, it was as if Castiel's body became a transparent shell, and inside Dean could see a bright, warm core. It was an opalescent white, colors occasionally swirling to the surface, shapes like nebulae forming and dissolving. Dean was entranced, fascinated by its ever-changing beauty. The love he felt for Cas heightened with every moment he gazed upon his soul, until he had to look away or break down sobbing, overcome by such perfection.

He still had to wipe away a tear or two, as Castiel gathered him into his arms. 'It's wonderful, Cas,' he choked out. 'I've never seen anything so beautiful.' Suddenly indignant, he reared back and socked Castiel in the shoulder, 'You were going to let that be destroyed, burned away, just to be an angel again? How could you?'

'I had to try, Dean. You know I have to have Grace, if there is to be any hope of reversing Metatron's spell. Even with having to steal the Grace, even if I had been altogether lost, it may still have been enough that the new angel was in my body.'

'You stupid, self-sacrificing son of a bitch,' Dean whispered, the horror of how close he'd come to losing Castiel rolling over him like a tidal wave. He clutched at Cas like a drowning victim, desperate to reassure himself of his continued existence.

Able to feel Dean's fear, Castiel rocked him gently. 'Shh, it's alright. You scared me terribly as well, you know. You were trying so hard to get away, I almost lost you.'

'You said it would hurt,' Dean grumped. 'You didn't say you were going make me swallow the sun.' Guilt and pain tore through Castiel, and he quickly amended, 'Totally worth it, though! And hey, I'm all new-and-improved, which totally rocks!'

'I would have spared you the pain, if I could,' Castiel murmured.

'I know, Cas. It's okay.' Dean suddenly clutched at his head, where a cacophony of elated voices had erupted. The tumult grew, becoming deafening, and he yelped, 'Ack! Cas, help!' Castiel did something, and the voices faded away. 'What the hell was that?'

'You call it angel radio. You heard the Host, crying out in joy.' Castiel paused, listening for a few moments, 'Dean, it's amazing! Their wings are healing, Metatron's spell has been broken!'

' _What?!_ How? I thought we just completed the first step.' He felt the revelation flood through Castiel, 'You figured it out. What happened?'

'You did. Dean, you marvel, you did it! Your gift to me, saving my life, sacrificing your humanity, that demonstrated true love! And by taking on half of my Grace, though not enough to burn out our joined souls, you became a Nephilim. We both did, but that I gave you the Grace and changed you to accept it, meant that I gave you life as a Nephilim. We satisfied all the requirements of the spell reversal, and Heaven's Gates reopened!'

'Whoa. Wait, what do you mean we're Nephilim? I thought those were babies born to angels and humans?'

'They're human-angel hybrids, having both souls and Grace. Never before has one come into being except in the way you describe.'

'Well, we Winchesters aren't known for doing things the easy way. Oh crap, aren't Nephilim outlawed or something? Is your family going to come gunning for both of us now?'

'If there is anything that you and your brother have shown us, by stopping the ordained Apocalypse, it's that the old rules no longer apply. I suspect that is just one more thing on which my brethren will fail to agree. Just as some will never forgive me my many transgressions, there will be those who persist in seeing us as abominations. However, there is a multitude of voices currently praising us for the sacrifices we have made, in order to reopen Heaven's Gates. We are being viewed as martyrs, because we both gave up our original natures for the sake of the greater good.'

'Huh. Well, pretty much all of them were after you before, so this is a big improvement. Still, we should probably continue to stay off the radar as much as possible, until we see how things shake out.'

'Yes, that seems wise.'

'Did you pick up anything else from angel radio, like what happened back in New York after we left?'

'When I spoke to Kaia earlier, she indicated that the situation was under control. She took command from Malachi, and her forces defeated what remained of Bartholomew and Abaddon's forces; those that did not flee when it became apparent that their leaders were gone. The angels at the venue are now working in concert with Crowley's demons to remove the bodies and reassure the public.'

'That just sounds wrong, but why mess with what's working. So the angel war is over?'

'Let us hope so. Ezekiel was always a strong and capable leader; if she can consolidate her position, Heaven would be well served.'

'Great, that's two problems solved. Now we just have to figure out what to do about Abaddon. How come she..., he now, I suppose..., why didn't he follow us, and take us out while you were weakened?'

'It is why I chose this location, the beach stretches to infinity and lacks distinctive landmarks. We had just enough of a head start that he would have been unable to tell where we landed. We are both warded against detection, so Abaddon could have searched this beach for aeons and not found us. I hope he wasted much time trying.'

'Smart move, Cas; that was some fast thinking. But he's going to go after Heaven's souls now, we still have to stop him somehow.'

'One moment, let me check with Kaia.' Castiel went silent for a few moments, then smiled in relief. 'She says that their wings are healing rapidly. Heaven's guardians will be returning to their places within hours. All are eager to hunt down the demon, we may leave him to them.'

'Won't he just poof back downstairs, and overthrow Crowley instead?'

'His powers allow him to teleport between the realms of Hell and Earth, but without Metatron's wings, he will be unable to leave Heaven. He has trapped himself here.'

'Sweet! He's the fox, and this place is about to be swarming with hounds.'

'Yes, he will be too busy eluding capture to do much damage.'

'So now what? We go home?'

'Shortly. There are some things I should teach you first, such as how to conceal your wings.'

Dean's eyes automatically went to Castiel's wings, and he felt his fingers twitch with the desire to touch. 'Sure, Cas. In a bit. Right now, it's _my turn_.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, please be honest. Did I give too much away, did you all know exactly where I was going with this? 
> 
> I thought I was being particularly heavy-handed by drawing parallels between Dean as The Doctor and Cas as Rose, and the way The Doctor drew the white-light Tardis energy out of her and was transformed thereafter. Did that foreshadowing make it all just screamingly obvious?


	15. Playing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel finally gets the chance to teach Dean a thing or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This long, strange journey started with gratuitous porn, so it only seemed right to end it the same way. Thanks for taking the ride with me. :)

Dean walked around Castiel, until he was standing directly behind him. Cas looked back over his shoulder at Dean, then turned to face forward, letting his wings spread in a relaxed fashion, open to whatever Dean wished. And what Dean wished was to finally get to examine those gorgeous, blue-black wings in as much detail as he pleased.

Reaching out with a hand that trembled faintly, Dean just barely brushed his fingertips against medium-sized, mid-wing feathers. His breath caught as he felt the tingling sensation that spread through the wing, as clearly as if it had been his own that had been touched. Castiel released his breath on a sigh, wings stretching out in a motion that reminded Dean of a cat arching its back, silently begging to be stroked again.

Dean did just that, stroked down the full surface of the wing with the flat of his hand. More tingles shot up his arm, the muscles wanting to twitch as if what he'd put his hand on had been an electric fence. But the sensation that had set his skin alight and tightened his nipples was nothing compared to what Cas had experienced at the contact.

Castiel clenched his fists and threw back his head, gasping as sweet fire spread through his right wing. Behind him, Dean gasped too, the link between them letting him experience it at the same time. No further touches came for a minute, as Dean struggled not to give into ravening lust. He wanted his chance to explore, as much as his body was suddenly screaming at him to leap upon Castiel, and just _take_.

Curious as to whether all of the wing was so sensitive, Dean raised both hands, palm up, and held them just below the bottom edges, at the point closest to Cas' body. Then he spread his hands outward, letting the lowest points of the feathers tickle over his fingers. Unprepared for how good that would feel, Dean whined and hunched forward, his rock hard dick throbbing as he almost toppled into orgasm. He couldn't describe the sensation that had rippled through Castiel's wings, but the closest equivalent he could think of was what he felt when Cas did that rapid-flick thing with his tongue, along the frenulum of Dean's dick.

Trying to maintain his focus, Dean had kept his hands off his cock in spite of how erotic this was turning out to be. But that last barrage of sensation had Castiel grabbing at his own dick, just in time to catch the sudden spurt of pre-come and use it to ease the glide of his fist over his rigid length. Dean moaned and thrust into empty air, pre-come drooling out of his dick at the echoed sensation. He grabbed at Castiel's hips, needing the support to steady himself.

'Cas, _fuck!_ How'm I supposed to concentrate if you, ah, _oh!',_ Dean shuddered, Castiel having sped his motions, adding that twist of the wrist that got him off fastest. 'So it's like that, eh? Fine.' Giving in, Dean began to pet the trembling wings before him in earnest, running his fingers through the stiff/soft feathers the way he would run them through Cas' hair.

'Oh god, _Dean!',_ Castiel screamed out, writhing under Dean's touch. He was so distracted by the torrent of shocking sensation flooding in from his wings that he forgot that he was jerking off, forgot to move his hand. It didn't matter though, nothing could prevent the orgasm that bowed his spine and sent come erupting from his cock. He cried out again as he felt Dean's hands convulse in his feathers, followed by splashes of warmth against his back and wings as Dean climaxed right along with him.

Dean moaned, knees nearly giving out at the sight of his come painting white stripes over Cas' glossy dark wings. He thought it was quite possibly the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. He ran a hand through some of the gooey mess, spreading it further and rubbing it in, marking his angel with his scent, his seed. It didn't matter that Cas could clean it away with a thought, right now a primitive part of his brain was rejoicing at the possessive act.

And, turned on as he still was, Dean realized with a shock that he'd stayed hard. Damn, this new level of stamina was going to take some getting used to, but how awesome was it that he didn't have to wait? He could immediately follow his next impulse, which was to fuck his gorgeous, insanely hot boyfriend into next week.

'Cas, I want you so bad. Can you do that thing you did to me, to make me ready to take you, on yourself?'

'Yes. Yes, of course,' Castiel panted, as eager as he to keep going. He reached back to caress Dean's thighs as he made adjustments to his own body. 'I'm ready, Dean, whenever you are.'

Dean reached between Castiel's butt cheeks, fingers delving for his hole. He found the puckered ring of muscle swollen and wet, more of a slick substance leaking from it at Dean's touch. 'Holy shit, Cas. This is fucking awesome. You're amazing, you know that?' He plunged two fingers deep, testing Cas' readiness, and moaned along with him as he felt the other man's pleasure. 'Oh _fuck!_ I can't wait. But I want to see you this time. Turn around, love.'

Castiel did, and with a playful grin, leaped into Dean's eager embrace. As Cas' legs settled around his waist, Dean was once again surprised, this time by how easily he could bear Cas' weight. The man was, and he mentally groaned at his own thought, feather-light in his arms. Though he supposed that had more to do with his own newly enhanced strength than it did with the fact that Cas was a winged being. Whatever the reason, it opened up whole new worlds of possibilities; standing sex was just the start.

Leaving one hand under Castiel's thigh to support him, Dean reached down between them with the other. Meeting Cas' trademark intense stare, he lined his cock up with Castiel's hole, and held it in place while Cas sank slowly down onto him. When his angel was fully seated, he withdrew his hand, reaching up along Castiel's back until he was once more in contact with soft, warm feathers.

Those feathers shifted sensuously beneath his fingers as Castiel used his wings to help him ride Dean. He'd flap them, just a little, just enough to help him raise himself up until he'd nearly lifted off of Dean's dick. Then his wings would flare wide at the surge of pleasure, each time he slid back down. Picking up the pace, he moved his hands from their supporting position on Dean's shoulders, and began to run them along the top edges of Dean's wings.

Dean wasn't sure how he was still on his feet. Aside from certain very recent events, he'd never been so overwhelmed with pleasure in his life. He could feel everything Cas was feeling, and Castiel was feeling a _lot._ He was making all of Dean's favorite noises, deep groans and sobbing gasps. With his mouth gaping open, face flushed and eyes dark with arousal, he looked utterly _wrecked._ Dean probably looked much the same, given how avidly Cas was devouring him with his gaze.

Cas' hands in his wings were about to do him in, the intensity of it beginning to white out his brain. He'd been unconsciously using his wings to help him keep his balance, but as his body tightened with impending orgasm, they swept forward to embrace his lover. Cas' wings were spread high and wide, which meant that Dean's were actually able to come up under them and wrap partially around them from behind.

Wings in direct contact with wings was apparently the nuclear equivalent of splitting the atom. The explosion of pleasure was so great that Dean was aware of nothing else. He didn't hear his or Cas' screams, didn't feel himself fall back onto the sand, both he and Castiel convulsing and coming for long moments even after they hit.

When Dean's senses gradually returned, he became aware that he was lying flat on his back, a still-twitching Castiel blanketing him with both body and wings. His own wings were spread out beneath him, and still in contact with Cas', in places. Between those points of contact, it now felt like there was a current of power flowing, the Grace they shared circulating through them both like blood.

'You okay, Cas?', Dean asked, a little worried that he'd done something dangerous. Castiel sighed and stirred in his arms, warm breath against Dean's ear making him shiver.

'I am very okay,' Cas murmured, lazily lifting his head to smile down at Dean. 'Are you satisfied with your examination of my wings?'

Dean snorted with amusement, 'Not even close, Cas. If I'm going to get derailed like that every time, it's going to take forever to satisfy my curiosity.'

'Then it is fortunate that we have forever,' Castiel purred, and leaned down to give Dean a long, lingering kiss.

* * *

After another long period of cuddling and recovering from mind-blowing sex, Castiel decided it was time Dean learned a little about how to live with Grace. Cas took care of cleaning them up, that was something he could teach Dean later. The first thing Dean needed to learn was how to hide his wings, because he wasn't even going to be able to get dressed until he did.

'So Cas, where were your wings, when I couldn't see or feel 'em?'

'They were always there, just slightly out of phase with the reality that humans can perceive.'

'There's more to reality?'

'Yes. Just as there is more to light than human eyes can discern, such as infrared and ultraviolet. Everything in the reality you know is simply energy, vibrating at different rates. The body's senses are interpreters of this energy, translating it as soft/hard, hot/cold, bright/dark, and so on. By changing my vibrational frequency, in whole or in part, I can go beyond the range of human senses.'

Dean, his primary sense being auditory, immediately related this to sound, 'So I couldn't see your wings, for the same reason I can't hear a dog whistle?'

'Yes, you have the gist of it. By raising my frequency, I become undetectable.'

Dean grinned, 'Invisible angels, standing on higher ground?'

Castiel frowned in confusion, 'Ground height is not relevent; a higher plane of existence, perhaps.'

Dean laughed and waved a hand in dismissal, 'Just an inescapably bad song from the eighties, Cas, don't worry about it. Okay, I'll bite. How do I 'raise my frequency'?'

'Ah. That is not so easily described. I will take you through the transition a few times, and you should be able to pick up on it.' Castiel reached out and took Dean's hands in his. 'Ready?'

'Sure, go for it.' Dean felt a peculiar frisson in the energy he now carried within him, but nothing much else seemed to happen. 'That it?'

'Yes. If we were standing in front of a human right now, we would not be seen. Now, I will return us to a slower frequency.'

Dean felt another internal shift, and this time it did feel like something slowed. 'Huh, I think I'm beginning to get it. Do that again.' Castiel did, repeating the shift until Dean could recognize the feelings.

'Very good, Dean. Now you try.'

Recognizing what Cas was doing was very different from doing it himself. As with looking at a soul, simply trying hard was ineffective. 'Agh, how the hell do you trigger it?'

'You're thinking too hard, Dean. Just try to remember how it felt, and relax into that.' He pressed warm, strong fingers into the back of Dean's neck, gently massaging.

Closing his eyes, Dean blew out a breath and focused on that pleasant physical sensation. Tension drained from his muscles, and he turned his attention inward once more. This time, instead of trying to cause the shift, he just tried to remember what it had felt like when Cas did it.

'That's it, Dean! You've done it.' The surge of pride Castiel experienced made Dean's eyes pop open. Dean's surprise at that pride made Cas growl and pull him in for a bruisingly hard kiss. 'Give yourself some credit, Dean. Even allowing for the advantage of our bond, you are still learning in hours what angels normally learn over the course of centuries.'

'A lifetime of do or die trains you to pick up skills quick, I guess. But it's the regular practice, turning skill into reflex, that'll keep you alive. So, we keep at it until I get this. Slow now, right? Tell me when I'm there.'

Dean practiced for hours, until he could transition at will, until he could do it while running flat out, or while full-on sucking face with Cas. Normally, he'd have been tired and hungry and more than ready for a break, but he still felt energized and strong. Seriously, Grace fuckin' rocked.

Harder than shifting phase entirely though, was having it affect only his wings. It didn't help that he couldn't tell when he'd succeeded, he had to rely on Cas to let him know. He had to draw on the bond he shared with Cas far more for this lesson, needing the extra guidance Cas provided from deep within.

Finally though, Castiel pronounced him ready. Dean passed his first test, able to don his suit without a problem, though it freaked him out a little to have the fabric of the shirt and jacket pass through his wings like they weren't there. Cas reached over and tugged on one of the long primary feathers, leaving Dean reassured and hard in his pants.

'Smartass. Come over here and try that.' But Castiel had plopped down in the sand, shaking out his shoes before putting them on. 'So how do we get home? You gonna zap us there?'

'This time, yes. It will take a good deal longer to teach you how to use your wings to their full potential. Vast distances can be traveled in an instant, only a single flap necessary to select out the potential reality that includes you standing in the place you wish to be.'

'Uh, what?'

'Our wings are rarely used to physically fly us anywhere, Dean. They are tools of Grace, used to help us manifest a particular reality out of a myriad of potential ones.'

'Still not following you.'

'The future is a malleable thing, Dean. The possibilities are endless. Take a particular point in upcoming time, an hour from now, say. There's a potential future where we remain here, one where we are standing in front of the bunker, and many others which have us at other locations, depending on the choices we are soon to make. Right now, all of these potential realities are equally likely. Using my wings, I can see and sort through them, and select the one I wish to have actually come to fruition. What looks like a flap of my wings is really a physical representation of the action of selecting the chosen reality, and then inhabiting it.'

'That's how teleportation works? You imagine the place you want to be, and just choose to be there? A flap of the wings makes it so?'

'In essence. You are very smart to grasp it so quickly, this sort of thing has been known to give quantum physicists headaches.'

'I'm gonna stick with wings are magic, thanks.'

'But there's no reason you shouldn't use yours in a more mundane fashion. Would you like to try flying, Dean?'

Dean gulped, nerves twisting his stomach into knots. He wasn't proud of it, but he was afraid to fly, always had been. He knew Castiel was aware of it, because come on. How many people, suddenly finding themselves possessed of wings, wouldn't have been leaping into the air at the first opportunity? Though it was difficult to gauge time in this unchanging landscape, Dean figured he'd had his new appendages for more than a day now, and his feet had yet to leave the ground.

'It isn't difficult, Dean. You have the instincts for flying now, you have only to let them take over.'

'Oh sure, easy for you to say.' Tentatively, Dean spread his wings and tried a couple of quick flaps. He felt himself start to lift, and immediately froze up, dropping back down as his wings snapped shut, hugged close to his body. 'Uh, I don't think this is going to work.'

'That's not how you learn to fly, Dean.'

'How do you do it, then?'

'As birds do, naturally.' With that, Castiel grabbed Dean and _flapped_. In the next instant, they were in the air over Kansas. Several miles in the air. Castiel released Dean and darted away.

Dean _screamed_ , the sound nearly lost in the cold, thin air of the open sky. Panic shut down his higher thought processes for several moments, but gradually the realization that he wasn't falling seeped into his awareness. His wings were flapping at a frantic rate, actually propelling him even higher. The next thing he became aware of was what Cas was feeling. He looked down to find that Castiel was having trouble keeping up with him, having trouble flying at all, convulsed with laughter as he was.

'Cas, you feathery _bastard!!',_ Dean yelled at him, the residue of fear morphing into rage.

Castiel flew nearer, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. 'See, Dean? Flying is instinctual, your body knows what to do.'

'Wait till I catch you, you're so going to pay for that!' The instincts Cas mentioned aided him again, and he found himself lunging toward a startled Castiel. Cas was entirely at home in the air though, and dodged him with ease.

'Come and get me, Dean,' Castiel taunted, and oh, it was on. Castiel led Dean on a merry chase, the two of them darting through the air like gigantic hummingbirds. Before long, Dean began to enjoy himself, the natural elation of flying finally kicking in. He broke away from the pursuit, content just to swoop and roll, spreading his arms and glorying in the rush of wind. Castiel followed him now, drinking in the beauty of a transported Dean.

When Dean flashed him a grin full of love and joy, Castiel could take no more. He dove and rolled, then came up from below Dean, capturing him in his arms. Startled, Dean clutched at him, wings flailing a little as he adjusted. Castiel's own large wings were more than capable of keeping them stabilized while he did.

'Shit Cas, what is this? Scare Dean to Death Day?' Castiel only smirked at him, then did something unexpected again. Dean yelped and jerked with surprise, because there were suddenly no clothes between them. 'Cas, fuck! Out here? Anyone could see us!' They were flying through sunlit skies, and while he was pretty sure they were too high for anyone to see them with the naked eye, he still felt terribly exposed.

'Check your frequency, Dean. I raised it before I let you go, we are invisible to all but other supernatural beings.'

'Where are our clothes?!'

'I dropped them. Don't worry, we're close enough to the bunker; I was able to leave them by the door. We can pick them up later.'

Dean opened his mouth to voice another complaint, but Cas shut him up with a kiss. A massive wave of love and lust washed over Dean, and he was suddenly much more aware of the body pressed close against him. Castiel was so hard he ached, and was nearly trembling with need. 'Whoa. I guess watching me fly is kind of a turn-on for you, huh?'

'You have no idea how beautiful you are, Dean. And your wings are _magnificent.'_

Dean wrapped his legs around Castiel's, and rolled his hips, grinding their pelvises together. He grinned to see Cas' eyes roll back in his head, the steady beat of his wings faltering at the delicious pressure. 'Can you even do it while flying?'

'I would very much like to find out!'

Dean hmmed like he was thinking about it, while he mouthed along the bone of Cas' jaw, then pressed kisses to his sensitive neck. It was difficult to remain seemingly nonchalant, when the need raging in Castiel was feeding his own. He raised his head to look Cas in the eye, 'Well, okay. But if you drop me, I will never forgive you.'

Dean gasped in shock, his stomach left somewhere behind them, as Cas took that as permission to take them into a wild dive toward the ground. Dean's wings either understood about tandem flying, or Cas was using their bond to control them, because they folded into a configuration that facilitated the dive, when Dean would have expected them to flare in a breaking maneuver.

Instead they were falling fast, rolling in the air, and Dean wrapped his arms and legs around Castiel, clinging for dear life. Then Castiel's wings snapped out, pulling them out of the dive, and Dean nearly screamed as, along with the sudden press of G-force, he felt Cas' dick thrust deep into him.

Castiel's wings were beating hard now, great strong flaps propelling them higher into the sky. His own wings tucked quiescent against his back, Dean could do nothing more than clutch weakly at Cas' shoulders. Gasps and moans fell from his mouth as Cas kept his hips still, and used the upward thrust of the wing beats to fuck him. Taking in the rapt face of his angel, and the sight of the huge black wings working powerfully to hold them both aloft, Dean's pleasure rapidly climbed to a fevered peak.

Dean knew Cas was close when his wings stuttered in their rhythm, just as his hips would do right before he came. He clenched down on Cas' cock in anticipation, and that was enough to throw Castiel over the edge. Screaming his pleasure to the open sky, Castiel folded his wings and let them fall. Feeling Cas release inside him, combined with the surge of fear that came with falling, propelled Dean into a hugely adrenalized orgasm. Feeling like he was coming with his whole body, Dean's screams joined Castiel's as they plummeted toward the earth.

Dean was so gone that he would probably have let them crash, if he'd been the one in charge, but Castiel was fortunately able to regain his wits after coming his brains out for three glorious miles. They were much closer to the ground than they'd been, but still a couple of miles up when Castiel eased them into a long glide.

When they'd slowed, Cas tilted his wings to bring them upright, and brought them to a hover. Dean eased his deathgrip on Cas, the post-orgasmic glow helping to relax his muscles. 'Cas, holy... that was... just WOW.'

Castiel kissed him, using the bond to pour all the wonder and ecstasy he'd felt into Dean. Then he pulled back to grin at the absolute mess Dean had made of them; come was everywhere, smeared between their chests and stomachs, splattered over their faces, even in their hair.

Dean grinned back ruefully, 'Hey, you were the one who made it possible to keep coming for so long. I didn't think the feedback loop was ever going to let up enough for us to stop. And there was all that wind, so yeah.' He grimaced, feeling more come gout from his asshole and run down his legs, as Cas softened enough to slip free from his body. 'Ugh, how about cleaning us up, already. I feel gross.'

'Certainly, beloved.' With a thought, it was done.

Dean sighed with relief, 'Awesome. C'mere you.' Dean pulled him back into a kiss, and they hung there in the air, hugged together and gently making out while they slowly came down from the incredible high.

The day was fading toward sunset by the time they surfaced from their mutual adoration session. Castiel smiled suddenly, piquing Dean's curiosity, 'What?'

'It's Sam, he's praying to me. He's letting me know that he, Kevin, and Mrs. Tran have been driving back from New York, and should reach the bunker shortly.'

Dean frowned at the thought of someone else driving his baby all that way, but had to allow for extenuating circumstances. These past few days had been wildly outside the norm, even for them. 'We'd better get down there, then. I'd like a chance to get some clothes on before they show up.'

'They wouldn't see us, even if we showed up naked.'

'Agh, no! That's just wrong, we are NOT doing that. Put us down, oh shameless one.'

Though amused by Dean's quirks, Castiel was happy to respond to his wishes. The next flap of his wings were of the reality-selection sort, and suddenly they were standing on the ground outside the main door of the bunker. Their clothes were strewn over the grass nearby, as Cas had been more interested in getting at Dean's skin than in dropping them into a neat pile.

'Oh, now see? If they'd come back and found that, we'd never live it down.' Dean unwrapped himself from Castiel, and began to pick up items of clothing, tossing the ones that belonged to Cas in his general direction. Castiel just stood and watched him, and Dean blushed to realize that he was admiring the view of his naked ass, as he repeatedly bent over. 'Get dressed, you perv!'

Castiel laughed at him, but obeyed. Then he laughed some more when Dean tried to go into the bunker for a change of clothes, only to bounce off the anti-angel warding.

'It's not funny, Cas! That stung!' Castiel evidently did not agree, doubled over in mirth. 'Oh, you're just having all kinds of fun at my expense today, aren't you? Don't think I've forgotten about that stunt you pulled earlier. I haven't figured out an appropriate punishment yet, but someday soon, you're gonna get it.'

Castiel couldn't quite stop giggling, 'A-anything you d-do to me, you'll feel too.'

Dean was grinning now too, because he couldn't help it. He could feel what Cas felt, and was also finding a giggly angel ridiculously adorable. 'That just makes it a challenge.'

Before Cas could come up with a rejoinder, they heard the deep rumble of the approaching Impala's engine. They downshifted their frequency so as to become visible to their friends, Castiel checking to make sure that Dean had successfully kept his wings concealed.

Sam pulled up next to them, and bounded out of the car like an oversized puppy. 'Dean!' he exclaimed, pulling his brother into an enthusiastic hug, 'You made it!'

Dean hugged back, glad to see him. 'Thanks to Cas, yeah. I was pretty sure Abaddon had us, for a minute there.'

'It was Dean's actions that saved us, actually,' Castiel demurred.

'I want to hear the whole story.' Sam stepped back, but kept a hold on Dean's shoulders. He looked him up and down, searching for differences, 'Kaia says you're a Nephilim now? What the hell, Dean?'

'Me 'n Cas both. We'll explain, but I would seriously love to do it over a burger and a beer.'

'You still eat then, I take it?'

'Don't gotta, but right now, that's what I want.'

'We haven't eaten yet either, but we haven't much in the way of food here. We were about due for a grocery run before we left.'

'No problem, Cas and I can go while you make a few modifications to the wardings on this place. Right now, we can't even get in.'

Kevin and his mom had climbed out of the back seat, and were quietly listening to the conversation. Kevin piped up, 'It's a simple enough change, to allow Nephilim through. I can get it done in about an hour.'

Dean left Sam, to go give Kevin a hug. 'Thanks, short-stuff. I'm glad to see you're okay.'

Kevin ducked out of the embrace, embarrassed. 'I'm sorry, I let you down. I know I shouldn't have left the bunker, but...'

'Hey, hey. Don't sweat it, kid. There's not a one of us here who hasn't done something stupid, to save a loved one. They had your mom, dude. We totally get it.' Dean looked over at the woman, 'How are you doing, Mrs. Tran? You okay?'

Her eyes were haunted, but she held herself proudly erect, 'I will be. Sam has offered to let me stay here with you for a time.'

'Sure, sure. As long as you like. You're safe here.'

'Mom's going to man the phones for us. She'll be way more convincing as an FBI supervisor, when that's needed. I still sound too young.'

'That's a great idea.'

Kevin looked relieved, 'Okay, so, I'll go get started on those wards. See you later.' Taking his mom's hand, he led her into the bunker.

Sam tossed Dean the car keys, but then a peculiar expression crossed his face. 'Uh, were you planning to fly instead?'

'When I could drive Baby? What's the matter with you?'

Sam was still looking at him funny, 'You do have wings now, though? Can I, um. Can I see them?'

Castiel looked intently at Sam for a few moments. 'You could safely show him, if you wish to, Dean. Lucifer made much the same modifications to Sam that I made to you. Sam could have tolerated his possession without it, but given the way his previous vessels deteriorated, Lucifer was likely tired of having to expend effort to protect his vessel from his Grace.'

Now Sam looked downright ill, 'What did he do to me?'

'Nothing bad, Sammy. It just means you could swallow a boat-load of Grace and not blow up.'

'Uhh, right. Okay, I guess.'

Castiel sensed that this was a private moment between the brothers. 'If you'll excuse me, I'd like to contact Kaia for an update on the situation in Heaven.' He turned and walked a little ways away, just far enough to be out of earshot. Within moments, Kaia appeared beside him, and they began to talk.

While Sam was looking at the others, Dean concentrated, quietly bringing his wings into view. Sam did an amusing double-take, when he caught sight of them in his peripheral vision.

'Oh my god!' Sam was gobsmacked. Smirking, Dean spread his wings, then raised them high, showing off the pretty green feathers on the underside. _'Oh my god!'_

'Pretty sweet, right?'

Sam's fingers twitched with avarice. 'Can I touch 'em?'

Considering how it felt every time Cas touched his wings, it seemed to Dean like Sam had just asked to touch his junk. 'Uh, no! Go find your own angel to grope.'

Getting it, Sam blushed, and before he could help himself, his gaze shot to Kaia. Sensing his regard, she looked back, and they held an intense stare for several moments. When he managed to break away, Sam found Dean grinning at him.

'Not for nothing, Sammy, but the last time an angel looked at me like that, I got laid!'

Sam's blush intensified, making Dean chuckle. 'You should show some respect, Dean. She's basically in charge of Heaven now.'

'Eh, you could do worse, I guess.'

Sam's mouth opened to call him a jerk, but Castiel and Kaia were approaching, so he swallowed the old, familial insult. He turned to stand beside Dean, facing the others.

Dean's wings were still on display, and Kaia was gazing curiously at them. Feeling self-conscious, Dean folded them down and put them back into what he thought of as other-space. Not that doing so hid them from her view, but the action was already becoming a reflex.

'Congratulations Dean, on your mating,' she offered.

Sam was looking at him quizzically, 'There was a bonding thing involved with becoming a Nephilim. It's part of the long story, but basically, Cas and I are like, married now.'

Sam's face lit up, 'Really? Dean, that's fantastic!' He hauled Dean into another of his moose-hugs, then gave a startled Castiel the same treatment. 'Damn, we have so much to celebrate!'

Dean turned to Kaia, 'Congrats to you, too. I hear you're top dog upstairs, now.'

'Yes, thank you. I really must return now, there is much work to be done to restore order.'

'What about Abaddon, did you guys get him yet?'

'He has eluded us thus far, though we nearly captured him twice. With more angels returning to Heaven with every passing hour, I'm sure his freedom will be short-lived.'

'Good, that's good. Feel free to drop in anytime, if you want to visit with Cas, or whatever.' He smirked, noting that her eyes went not to Castiel, but to Sam.

'I would like that, thank you. I shall see you anon.' Slowly, she spread her wings in preparation for flight, allowing Dean a look at hers in return. The gobsmacked expression was back on Sam's face, so she wasn't keeping them concealed from him, either. Her wings were stunning, all pale glacial blues like she'd been carved from ice. Sam's fingers were twitching again, and she blessed him with a smile. Then, with the familiar flapping noise, she was gone.

Weak-kneed, Sam leaned against the Impala. His heart was hammering in his chest, 'Wow, she's amazing.'

Dean burst into laughter, 'Oh man, you are so screwed!'

Sam scowled at him, 'Shut up, Dean.'

'Come on, Cas. Let's go get some goodies while loverboy here works at getting his tongue off the ground and his eyes back in his head. Off the car, Sam.'

Sam flipped him the bird, and stalked off into the bunker.

'That wasn't very nice, Dean,' Castiel chided.

'Teasing is a brotherly right, Cas. You're his brother-in-law now, you should get in on it, too. Don't worry, he gives as good as he gets. Hey, you think he has any shot with Kaia?'

'She has expressed intrigue over my relationship with you, on more than one occasion. I would say it's not beyond the realm of possibility.'

'Super, that'll make for plenty of chances to get his goat.' They got into the car, Dean getting weirded out again with the way his wings seemingly went through the back of the seat. 'I am never getting used to that.'

'I highly doubt that, Dean. At this point, I'm not sure there's anything you can't do.'

* * *

Late that night, after the explanations, laugher, and celebrating were over, Castiel took Dean flying again. Soaring above the clouds, the sky brilliant with stars, Dean was overcome with awe at how amazing his life was just now. He wanted to hold on to this moment, forever.

Castiel recognized what he was feeling, 'It may not always be this good, but our lives ahead hold many wonderful moments, I'm sure.'

Dean smiled at him, letting go of the old fear that something would always come along to ruin his happiness. Because sometimes, good things did happen, instead. 'You know, Cas, when a couple gets married, it's traditional to go on a honeymoon.'

'I am amenable. Is there some place you'd like to visit, Dean?'

'Are you kidding, Cas? We have _magic wings!'_ He laughed and did a barrel roll, swooping in on Castiel from above, playfully tugging a few feathers on a fly-by. 'Show me the world!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit, I have no idea if there's sufficient air density to allow wings to keep a person aloft, several miles up. If not, just assume Cas is using his mojo to assist their flight, okay? We don't want reality messing up our fun after all, now do we? And of course, their Grace is what keeps them alive and comfortable, way up there where the air is freezing cold and too thin to breathe. 
> 
> I left Abaddon on the loose, in case I come up with a brilliant idea for her takedown later, or want to use her as a villain again sometime. For now, I trust that she's too busy running from angels at every turn, to do much mischief.
> 
> My apologies to The Alan Parsons Project, whose song I referenced. I like their music, but I don't think Dean would.
> 
> I plan to try writing something original next, so I won't be posting any more long fics for awhile. I expect I'll miss my boys too much to stay away entirely though, so I'll probably return to this verse for a one-off, every now and then.
> 
> Thank you so much, all you lovely readers, especially those who've left kudos and such amazing, encouraging comments. Writing alone is fun, but audience participation takes it to awesome levels. I love you all! :D


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